GTA V: Episodes From Los Santos: Ballad Of A Cholo
by Native Guns 13
Summary: Joaquin "Culebra" Avena was a man with a troubled past, growing up as a young gang member who joined the US military and later did time in prison, and now he is back in Los Santos. Also, Franklin, Trevor and Michael are up to their old ways. How will Joaquin interact with the three men? Will they be friend or foe? Or both? Based on my online character lightly. Rated M for content
1. More Money More Problems

_Hey people so here is what I decided to do, I decided I would make a story regarding GTA V but have it based on the actual areas of GTA V and this one is actually about the fourth playable character. I don't know what the online content yet has but if its mainly you it is based off of, I figured I could work with that. Do not worry this will not be a Mary sue and obviously he'll have a different name than me and even be a different tribe but a Native American character all the same._

_Anyway, I may not be able to update this much at first at least until I finish one of my other stories like Cross Fire but later on I will get back on it. In a way you can say since this is gonna be based on the guy I create, it is a bit of a vanity thing in a way but not entirely he will not be bullet proof he will not be a Mary Sue. Oh wait I guess that'd be GARY SUE. This way I can leave Volition as it is and not have to alter it. And YES, this is another L.S. based story, sorry if you don't like it then don't read it but I hope you do. Besides I am already working partly with Stelm and Afro Spirit on Sunbelt and that is a Texas based fanfic and I might do a GTA down the line about Boston but that'd need to be after i finish Cross Fire. Any why, enjoy it, people!_

* * *

_East Los Santos_

Joaquin "Culebra" Avena could hardly believe he was home. The streets of East Los Santos hadn't changed much. Shit was still going down in the varrio. He had spent five years away from home. He had been in the military for two years, and when he had come home, he had gotten into trouble for assault. He ended up doing two years in prison for it. They had not bee an easy two years, it seemed almost as hard as his time in the military but at least out there he was allowed to have a gun.

In the pinta you had only your fists which could be good enough one on one but against a pack of people, you were screwed. Luckily, La Onda had his back. And in the pinta, to be strapped, meant you had a fillerjo. If you had one you needed to be willing to stick somebody as soon as you pulled it out.

He'd had a chance to rise above just being a member of Mara Bunta Grande and actually become a member La Onda. He had declined because he knew it would mean he would have all kinds of heat on him if he did and if he didn't there would still always be that risk. And once you were in you were in it for life. All though some members of La Onda, would go into hiding.

They were expected to be active but if they didn't want to they would need to hide out. Even while this was considered an act of betrayal, La Onda prioritized going after the MIA Onda members that went into witness protection over those who simply lived off the grid and kept their mouth shut.

He knew it had still been no light thing to be invited to be La Onda because you did not get to request to join. You had to get asked. La Onda was the oldest prison gang in San Andreas. The Mexican Mafia, a group that had started to protect Mexicans and other brown ethnicity's from white and black hostile inmates. They had wanted to not only protect people but keep them out of prison and also teach young gang members to appreciate their Aztec and Mayan ancestry

He had been asked when he had killed a member of the BGA. He had seen three members of the Black Guerrilla Army, a black prison gang that made sure the Ballas an Families did not fight in prison, cornered a La Onda member. They had jumped him all though he fought back he was outnumbered. He had been mopping when it happened so he had used the mop stick as a weapon hitting them with it and breaking it in two. He ended up stabbing two of them with the broken wood killing one and putting the other in the hospital.

Though he was a loyal Mara Bunta member, He could not always condone what the gang had done in the past., They had an ugly history. They had started off as an El Salvadoran gang in Los Santos comprised mostly of Salvadoran youth who had come from El Salvador during its blood civil war, most of them at least the originals, were former guerrillas.

In one instance back in Honduras, one member had shot up a bunch of people on a bus to send some kind of message. Joaquin himself never saw what kind of fucked up message that was meant to send so by no means did he agree with it. Also in the early days some of the Bunta members were notorious for rape. That was when Mara Bunta Grande was just carving its own way in the L.S. drug game and taking on both Mexican and African American gangs.

The Mexican mob put a stop to that in its reglas or rules. No rape period. Not of female members, not enemy gang members and even if a girl chose to get sexed in if she wanted the act to stop the male members had to or they would be killed. This was not to say that there weren't crazy dumb young members that did that bullshit but when they were found out, their OG's would kill them.

Joaquin had even seen one accused rapist get castrated for all the homies to see as a warning to what would happen to them if they did the same thing. They were under Onda reglas now. They had to change. They could be as violent as they had to be but there had to be at least a bare minimum of honor even in warfare. While some bitched about having to kick up taxes, he was glad for them being under the Mexican Mafia. If they hadn't been things would be worse on the streets where Mara Bunta roamed. There would be anarchy. There would be no regulations or code of conduct.

Because of that castration, people did that less and less. It was just as well because even if they were in the same set as him, he would take somebody out if they did that shit. He despised rapists and child molesters. One way to rank up in the La Onda prison gang on the inside or to earn stripas was to slash a tinto; An African American inmate, or o stick a child molester, both considered enemies. Neither was tolerated.

As a rule, most prisoners regulated them and for that very reason cops had to give sex offenders their own protective wing. The justice system was so fucked up. They'd protect a guy who raped a woman or a child more than a person who was just in there for a fist fight or slinging dope.

Most female Mara Bunta members just got jumped in anyway like the males did. They were respected more as warriors than the home girls who got fucked in. Often, Mara Bunta's female members were often considered worse than the males. In a lot of cases they had to be.

By 92' the Mexican Mafia AKA La Onda wanted to tax them. Initially Mara Bunta had declined saying the money the gang had made through the drug trade was theirs alone. When this happened they had a green light on them but later, they ended up paying the taxation anyway as all brown gangs from Southern San Sandreas did. That plus they accepted the number 13 just as the Vagos and Aztecas had to. In return if they got arrested and sent to prison, they'd be protected by La Onda.

The bad part was, they had to pay taxation which in a way was more authoritarian but it was a worthy trade off considering the fact that the varrios where Mara Bunta Grande were present were almost anarchist before Onda put them on a tighter leash. It helped the Bunta Grande members, especially the leaders, see things in a bigger picture. La Onda had decreed that any rape was forbidden and if a member did it, the gang was expected to kill him or risk a green light on their whole varrio.

Not only that but they were also forbidden to consume any drugs stronger than marijuana. Also, no homosexuality was allowed in the organization be you a member of the Onda counsel or just a low level street soldier representing the South Side. The carnales didn't seem to give a shit however, if the females were lesbians or bi sexual. Many often became lesbians to deal with the abuse they had encountered from men anyway. As long as they were still willing to kill, just like any straight man or woman, why should it matter?

Also all cholos looking to get into the actual prison gang itself, could not be a Christian, as it was the religion of the Spaniards and they were about learning Aztec history as well as religion. La Onda had once been a good organization when it was about protecting La Raza from white and black but when it had become about the dope trade and making a profit, slinging to their own varrios, he knew they were not as honorable as they had been in the 60's and 70's. Even still, it was all he had.

Now, Joaquin was headed back to Murietta Heights, his home, a haven for gangs in East Los Santos. The Aztecas, Mara Bunta and Vagos all called the place home but the Mara Bunta was the most notorious. While the Vagos 13 and the Aztecas were the oldest gangs on the west coast, as some barrios had been around since before the Great Depression, the Mara Bunta was described by the FIB as the most dangerous and widespread street gang in America,. In the world even. It was in most of the United states,last he heard, at least 33 of the 50 states, probably more by now.

Though the Vagos and Aztecas were thought of as Mexican American street gangs and MBG was thought of as an El Salvadoran gang, after the beef between Mexicans and Central Americans on the street was squashed due to La Onda stepping in on it, there had now been many Mexican members of Mara Bunta and there were just as many Central Americans in the Vagos and Aztecas varrios.

Hell, Joaquin himself was Mexican and a Mara Bunta South Sider. Though the were the youngest South Side cliqua in L.S. and were even younger than the black gangs, which was not the case with the Vagos and Los Aztecas, Mara Bunta had become the most hardcore.

They were in Central America and Mexico. Probably the only organization bigger than them was the Triads and that was different because they were not a gang they were more like organized crime. So now, here he was, on his way back to the hood.

It had been a long time since he'd been back here. He'd gone to college at the University Of Los Santos San Andreas after he had gotten out of the army but he had only gone there for one year. That was the year between his tour in the middle east and his time in the pen. He had assaulted a pig for profiling him. Actually it had been two cops. They had tried to frisk him even though he had said he didn't consent to a search. This was back in 2011. They had violated his rights by doing this.

Sure, he had been an active gang member then as he had always been since he was fourteen but he had not been committing a crime at the time he'd just been going to class and had just come out of his Biology class he had in the afternoon. They had threatened to call the INS on him. He had ridiculed them both. Since one cop had been a white guy and the other had been black he said, "_I'm fucking Mojave and Nahuatl, man. We didn't cross the border, the border crossed us!_" He was from two tribes, one from south of the border and one from north of it.

His dad had been a Mexican and his mother, a Mojave woman, known to their people as Dine. They attempted to cuff him and he was going to comply but said, "_You two are the real illegals! Why don't you go back to the Eastern hemisphere, motherfucker? You brought disease to this continent! We were always here!"_ The white cop sneered, "_Yeah everybody's a wise ass till I punch them in the mouth,"_ He had said.

The cop tried to force him to his knees and then he did try to struggle. The black cop pulled out taser and had said, "_Whoa, let's not be stupid! Make it easier on yourself and stop resisting!" _The memory was still fresh in mind as though it had been two days ago rather than two years.

He elbowed the pig in the face and the other cop had punched him and sprayed mace at him. He had mostly missed his eyes but it had gotten into his mouth and his lips felt like they had swollen to a balloon. Later that day he made the mistake of accidentally touching his eye with his and which had also been sprayed and it burned anyway.

He remembered the self defense moves he had been taught in the Army and used martial arts on both pigs. The white cop had tried to radio for backup while the other went for his gun but Joaquin had ended up knocking both of them out and fleeing the scene. It had ended up on Electric Tit and Me TV as college students had flashed pics and recorded with their Whiz wireless cell phones.

He got charged with two counts of felony assault of an officer but he plea bargained getting the charge reduced to resisting arrest to get it reduced to just one strike all though that seemed useless. One felony may as well have been two as far as most employers were concerned. However if he had three strikes, that was the worst. Then it didn't matter how insignificant the crime was if it was a felony he'd spend life in the pen unless he snitched which he would never do.

Luckily the plea bargain had also been reason enough to get the brick of marijuana he was carrying to be dropped from charges. He assumed since he knew how la placa was on the streets that they likely took the bud to sell for themselves. It had been good shit too. He could still smell it from where he was now two years later.

Even though it had not yet been legalized he still believed that it was not as bad as speed or heroin so why should it have mattered? Still he was lucky they had let him off with that.

There was even some loopholes in the law where any crime, even as misdemeanor was grounds enough to be your third strike under San Andreas state law. It was bullshit. It was like the system was designed for people from the ghetto to fail. He should have been allowed to go free in his mind. The pigs had tried to assault him and unlike most people who resisted arrest he actually knew how to defend himself against officers and had actually been successful in doing so but later the next morning they picked him up and booked him.

It was for that reason, that all though Joaquin did not trust the government at all, he especially hated Bill Clinton as he had a major hand in implementing the three strikes law. Which was not to say he hadn't disliked Joe Lawton Jr. and Sr. as well as Barry Owosu but in terms of his own life, that had affected him on a personal level.

Now, he got out of the cab and paid for it. He recognized his old homies. "What's happening, vato? Do I know you?" Asked a Chicano gang member wearing long jean shorts, a plaid checkered blue and white shirt and had his hair slicked back and wore a hairnet. He was a a younger cholo. "Tell me it aint...is that you, Felipe? When did you get down, ese?"

Felipe "Termite" Gonzales was an eighteen year old gang member. When he had seen him last, he was at least five inches shorter last time he saw him. "Where's everybody else? I don't know most of these pee wees," A younger cholo, a Guatemalan Mara Bunta sneered, "And we don't know you, cabron! What's the problem, ese?"

Felipe told them, "Tranquile, homes. That's a veterano. He's hardcore as fuck, man. That's Culebra. He's a lean mean chavala killing machine. Sabes que, you fools moved out here from Rancho that's why you don't know about him."

Joaquin crossed his arms. "They're from Rancho? Since when are we letting vatos from South Central into the cliqua?" Felipe hopped onto his bicycle. "Yeah, a South Sider is a South Sider, bro. Anybody representing the Trece is cool. I mean don't get me wrong I can't stand the Aztecas from Rancho or the Vagos from Vespucci Beach but I'd rather be cool with them than the Ballas or Families."

Joaquin repeated his question. "So where's the homies? Carnales I ran with?" Felipe beckoned saying, "Come on, follow me. Take you over to where Lefty's kicking it, eh."

He followed the pee wee up the street. "You having me run after you, pendejo? What's that about? No love for an OG, Termite?" Termite laughed. "Hey, I know they had you running in basic training fool. You being a jar head and all, now. Keep up, homie! Vamos!"

He began to pedal faster and yelled, "Start sprinting, motherfucker!" He chased him up the street and yelled, "Hijo de puta!" The kid peddled faster and he said, "Damn, Culebra , they really got you in shape, huh? You used to be a fat ass when you were here before."

He chased the kid up the street and the kid peddled harder. "This is nothing, Termite! You wouldn't have lasted five minutes in basic training, mijo! Trust me! You would have been collapsed on the ground like I did when I first got there. Pinche pee wee chavala you got it lucky!"

He caught up to him as he stopped at a house after he got there first. "Ever hear of the early bird, man? Anyway, this is the place."

He went up and knocked. The barred screen door made a lot of noise. A pretty chola with black lip stick and gold hoop earings and neck lenth black hair, earring black pants and a blue midriff top and a turquoise bandanna answered the door. "Que onda? Have I met you somewhere before, ese?" He recognized her. "Si mon. You're Jose's hermana, Rosa It's Joaquin. Remember me?"

She had a hardcore look on her face not a few seconds before but when she recognized the tall man she smiled and gave him a hug. "Joaquin! Como estas? Life treating you well, papi? Heard you did some time. You got buff too, even buffer than when they brought you back from the Army!" She hugged him. She smelled good. Like strawberries.

He laughed. "Yeah, I know I was a pinche gordo before. But I'm not about to go back to that. Anyway I'm back for good, nina. Not going anywhere. East Los is home."

She let him in. Rosa Garcia was El Salvadoran and a bad ass. Joaquin had a crush on her when he was last in town but she'd had a man. "Anyway, I've been okay, Rosa. Just trying to stay alive. Try to survive as usual. It was only two years but a lot of shit can happen in a short amount of time. I'm just looking to earn now that I'n back. Enough about me. How about you? Yo still with that guy uh...Raul?"

She shook her head, a funny look on her face, one he could not quite interpret the meaning of. "That didn't work out. I'd be happy to catch up with you and maybe I'll tell you some other time but for now let's just say it didn't work out," She looked outside and saw a black and white police car roll by. She nodded toward the car as it passed and explained, "Eyes everywhere."

He walked into the mostly dark house. "So where's your hermano? He in?" Se said, "Nooooo but he will be soon. You should hang out for a bit. Good to see you back, handsome. I missed you but I thought I'd have to forget you thought you'd never make it back."

Finally her brother did show up. He was about five foot eleven, two inches shorter than Joaquin, and had slicked back jet black hair and a goatee and mustache. Minus the facial hair, he was the spitting image of an Indian warrior. Like that of the Mojave desert in a Wild West flick, preferably, one of the more accurate ones, not the stereotypical John Wayne ones.

He was Rosa's older brother and a veterano in the cliqua. He was of both Mexican and El Salvadoran ancestry. He was a felon the same as Joaquin but he had two strikes. He wore a white wife beater and black jeans. On his left bicep he had a tattoo of the Roman numerals of the letter 13. Below that, he had a tattoo that said BK and FK. Meaning Baller Killer and Family Killer.

On his right, the initials M.B.G. for Mara Bunta Grande. Lower than that, was a tattoo that said Whittier. "Chingada! I thought you died, homie! What's happening?" They slapped palms and hugged briefly. He corrected him. "No, bro it was just a shanking. That was ten months ago."

He had been shanked on the yard by a member of the Ballas. It had been retaliation not only for killing the BGA members but also for badly beating up a member of the Ballas from Strawberry. He had put that loud mouthed punk in the infirmary with cracked ribs, a fractured skull, a broken nose and four of his teeth knocked out. Needless to say, when they stabbed him, he'd been lucky to survive though he had ended up in the hospital too.

The C.O's had never known he was behind the killing of the BGA members but the BGA themselves had and since they had authority over both Family and Ballas, both gangs were required to carry out hits for the prison gang. He had been lucky that the pinche lobster had been trying to stab him quickly without being seen by the hacks so he hadn't taken the time to be sure and stab him in a vital area.

From what Joaquin knew, he'd been going for his right lung from the back but had not gotten it. As a result he spent several days laid up in a bed and he still had that same scar on his right shoulder. It had sucked but it could have been much worse. In retaliation for the attempt on his life, though he was not a member of L.O. they still looked ut for their own and that included any and all South Siders. So in retaliation, the man who had done it, was beaten to death in the shower by a high ranking Mexican Mafioso who already was serving a life sentence and had nothing to lose.

Meanwhile, to get out of prison, he had to make it seem as though he had actually wanted to reform. He looked up every book in the library they had on world religions, he did more work in the kitchen for two months and had even volunteered as an assistant to the nurses as many convicts did, in the Aids ward. He had initially been scared to do it but the nurse had told him that they were always careful. The nurses were a hell of a lot nicer than the bulls were.

He had even read to a man in the final stages of Aids a few times before he had passed. Though the warden was skeptical a member of Mara Bunta would ever reform, he had done as the Carnales running the joint had told him. "You want to get out of prison, ese? You've got to earn your freedom on paper. Until you do you're just a number to these people. Gente come in here thinking they're men but you know what he really is? A number. Worth 75 grand year. And what's worse? Too many of us are ending up back in here. You've got a chance to do something with your life."

That was their el mero mero known as Rudolfo Montana. He was a longtime Mexican Mafioso as well as the spokesman. "I don't want to ever see you in here again, entiendes?" He was one mafioso who though he knew violence was necessary, was not impressed by your average street thug with a long rap sheet. He respected brains more.

Lefty, who had earned his nickname long ago for his reputation as a street brawler with a mean left hook, that and also being left handed which was rare for most people, asked, "Hey you want a pisto, homes? Got a few cold ones in the box," Joaquin was not much of a drinker but every once in a while, indulged with the homies. "Is it Cerveza Baracho? Cause if so you already know the answer!"

Lefty tossed him one and pulled another for himself. "You want one too?" He offered his sister. Rosa declined. "I'm already working on one. Gracias," Lefty turned back to him and said, "So, what's going on homeboy? You in need of some work?" He admitted, "Yeah, now that I'm back in town I need to make some deniro. Anything you got would help. By the way where is Joker? He'd normally be here too, enit?"

Lefty took a sip and shook his head sitting down. Joaquin did the same in a lazy boy chair. "Yeah I'm sure he would if he weren't locked up. Actually he's supposed to be getting out today. You want to cruise down to the station and get him?"

Joaquin shrugged. "Sure. Why not? Except one thing, I don't have a carucha, homie," Lefty set the beer down. "Not a problem. We'll take mine. But anyway, bro, since you're back in town, you going to be representing Mara Bunta, ese? I'm not saying we're short on soldados. By no means. We're the biggest organization on the streets. In the country and this is the home town for us but men like you?"

He took another drink. "You're one in a million, perro. I mean you got combat skills that only the original Mara Bunta's had and most of them are dead or in the pinta doing life. Part of why we spread so fast and took over and made a name for ourselves that even the Mexican Mafia recognized is that our originals were fucking war heroes back in El Salvador. They shot better than the Vagos, the Ballas, Families or the Aztecas. So we started small in the eighties but we were as deep as any other South Side cliquas in this town by the 90's."

Joaquin took a swig and let out a satisfactory "Ahhh..." He then said, "I guess. Where are you going with this, hermano?" Lefty looked him in the eye and said, "Well, like I said, most are either dead from chavalas blasting on them, or La Jura shooting them or doing life sentences. You know they try to deport our carnales but we always get back here. We aren't meant to be kept out. So the vatos that get deported are back the next week. But our hardest hitting head honchos that started this whole thing, at least three of them were doing life and ended up on death row."

He looked down with regret and said, "Of all of them, Joker's the last of them. The last man, that is. There was a hyna that was always down for the varrio back in the day but she's low key nowadays but I'm sure if we called on her, she'd be down. You know Luisa? She's a mother now. Got kids graduating from High School. She's retired. See, once you're in Mara Bunta, it's por vida unless you're a mother and don't want that life for your kids que no? So we let her walk. But if she ever needs feria now and then, we understand. We'll help a sister. We know she's still down. She can choose to ride with us but its not mandatory. But you? You can't give birth. You got different obligations, Culebra. You gotta show these pee wees how to fight like they do in the army. That is the whole reason you signed up right?"

It was partly true but in a way he had also signed up because he believed in fighting for his country. That was what he believed as he went over. As he came back it was another story. But it was more to have the old school combat techniques and battle strategies that the homeboys and homegirls could use against enemies. It was also for the college opportunity. He wanted to be able to make ends meet the legitimate way too. He was Mara Bunta but he did not want it to be the only thing that defined him.

In some ways, he almost wished he never joined up but it was way too late for that now. He would ride for Mara Bunta and all South Siders into hell if he had to. It was all he had. It was all he'd ever had. He did not have a real family growing up.

He just said, "Si mon...I'm back so I might as well make a comeback. Help show these pee wees how to really bang. But I also gotta make a living too, you know? I'm always down for the hood but I want to make feria the legit way too. Now always have to have La Jura breathing down my neck through their puerco noses."

They stood up and Lefty said, "Yeah I hear you, carnal. It's good to have you back," He slapped hands with him and the two exchanged a quick hug. "As for legitimate? You do what you have to, mano. Gotta clean the dirty cash some way anyway, right?" They headed outside and Lefty tossed him the keys to a gray 63' Voodoo. "Hey, I'm gonna smoke some mota on the way, homes. So you better drive. And leave the windows up so you can get a contact!"

Rosa went with them hopping in the back. "You better give me some, carbon! I'm not watching you smoke while I get nada!" He rolled a blunt in the seat and said, "Hey, don't worry about it just let me get this shit ready first. And keep a trucha for the black and white, esa!" He was referring to the Los Santos Police Department.

"Orale, what the fuck ese? No disrespect bro but on the serio, we're going to pick up Joker and you want to start turning this ride into a Cheech & Chong convention? You think la jura aint gonna be deep you're wrong."

He lit up and took a hit. After about thirty seconds he blew smoke and handed it back to Rosa. "Tranquile, Joaquin...don't you know...? They legalized it in San Andreas. Where have you been?" He told him, "I've been in the pinta, remember? Now granted, that was mostly my fault for not just shutting up and letting the officers read me my rights but let's not forget, it was you who suggested that I start expanding the market out to the college campus remember? And let's not forget that while I did my time as a man, maybe, if I didn't have grass in my backpack when the shit kicked off, I wouldn't have had to plea bargain to a mandatory two years. And maybe, I would have been out in one year maybe less if I only had the assault charges."

Lefty took the blunt back from Rosa, "Mira, let's remember one thing, loco. You didn't have to resist arrest. And the other thing about it is, the shit was legalized. So if you were in the pinta, even still, you should have noticed that for all the drug charges you see with people going in and out of the slammer, you should have realized that was only the hard shit they were getting pinched for. Not for Mary. Now I admit, the stuff wasn't legal when you got booked and for that I'm sorry. It was really close as far as time goes, too."

Rosa told him, "Oye, you know better than that, bro. This stuff is really only legal if you've got a medical card which none of us do. Besides, if you think the legalization is a good thing then you've been smoking other shit than this, Lefty. The only reason the government legalized it is so that they could sell shit and put the street dealers out of business. Instead of employing former street slingers on the corner as a means to keep kids from the hood out of jail, they'd rather put them out of business while still locking us up just so they can sell a dub for forty dollars instead of twenty. You call that progress?"

Lefty blew smoke again and said, "You're overthinking it, mija. The thing is, because they still got those regulations with the medical cards and all, business is still good but even if it wasn't as far as grass goes, we still sling coka to those rich white boys across towns and those pinche mayates from South Central. I would rather sling that than in the varrio fucking our own people and neighborhood up."

Joaquin said, "Yeah you think drugs fuck our people up but drive by's and terrorizing the community doesn't?" Lefty shook his head. "I never said that, carnal. Not once. Plus you know me, you know how all the homies we associate with are. We don't terrorize civilians. Okay well maybe Joker, kind of does but only if they're potential witnesses. My point is, La Onda got motherfuckers in line. That's important. So now all that mierda the dumb pee wees did, is being put to a stop. We need more veteranos out on the street to show these little chavalas what's really up."

Joaquin added, "Well, if we got order in our varrios up here and are starting to get more control over other states Mara Bunta Cliquas, maybe its time to get word to our carnales down in Mexico and Central America as well?" Lefty agreed but he pointed out, "Yeah, I hear what you're saying brother, but that can't happen right now. Things are too hot and even while things are much crazier in Central America, this city is still HQ. Not just Mara Bunta but all South Side cliquas."

It was true that in n a way all though they'd beefed in the past, since they repped the trece numero, the Mara Buntas were just like the Vagos and ere now like a sub group of the Vagos 13. The Aztecas had been started in West Los Santos varrios due to an older Vagos cliqua not allowing them into their gang. So the Aztecas started in one hood and spread out. By the time La Onda was a powerful prison gang, they too, though they had beef with a lot of other varrios, most of them Vagos, they too, had to be South Siders because they were a Southern San Andreas gang.

They were actually, despite being an older gang and under the Mexican Mafia's wing longer than Mara Bunta, were more of a South Side subset than the Bunta's were. For one thing, unlike the majority of the Brown gangs in Los Santos, they had at one times allowed black members. The Vagos in the 90's though La Onda had been hostile toward Ballas and Families from the start, did get involved in he drug trade with the Ebony street gangs but once the 92' riots had stopped, La Onda had green lit them and the Vagos of every varrio, in North Santos, East, West and South, were the main shooters in carrying out the hits on African American street youth.

Joaquin was not entirely sure why Black and Brown hated each other these days so much. From what he remembered, he'd heard of some gang of Ballas from Rancho stealing from a Vago cliqua, hitting them for eighty racks. So from a financial view point, war over drug competition was possible and even likely but this was several years after the 92' riots and the tensions had been building up since then and escalating ever since.

The real reason was that when both Blacks and Mexicans began looting and rioting all over the city, angry that some crooked chotas had committed crime and gotten away with it, meaning pigs got a free pass to be criminals, at first it seemed like legitimate solidarity between the two but then, just as the Ballas had attacked a white guy in retaliation for the police corruption, and hit him with a brick, this got a lot of bad publicity.

A member of the Kilo Trey Ballas known as "Tackle" the same man who had attacked a man with brick as a news camera watched in a chopper in the sky, would later in the last day of the riot attack both Mexican pedestrians who were not involved in the riots, as well as Mexican owned stores.

This was unacceptable to the Mexican Mob so a green light was declared on both Tackle, and his entire gang. Later as tensions escalated on the streets, La Onda took the extreme route. They put a green light on all the blacks in South Central. So maybe, it was a touch of both. The racial attacks, followed by a robbery by the Ballas on some Vagos, who had once been business partners with them, several years later in the late nineties.

Even while the whole situation was fucked up, Joaquin hated how they made it seem as if his people were the agitators who were needlessly attacking blacks. Sure, there was innocent casualties but that went for both sides. The Families and Ballas had no qualms with shooting innocent people on their side either and had many times. It wasn't a fight his raza or his cliqua had started. Hell, Mara Bunta had just been taken under La Onda's wing that same year in 1992 turning them from a group of former guerrillas from the third world and teenage punk kids to a serious organization.

They had not started this war but if need be they would finish it. For now he just focused on heading out to the Sheriff's station in Davis. "Jose you sure about this shit, brother? This is smack in the middle of Davis. That's Ballas and Families turf, carnal!" Lefty passed the blunt back to Rosa. "The hell it is! This is Vagos turf nowadays. Ese''s run these streets! These tintos forget it too. This used to be Mexico. And before that, free, untamed land!"

It was true. Historically what was now called modern day Mexicans, who ad once been the Nahuatl and Mayans and many other tribes, were here before anybody else aside from other tribes which in San Andreas happened to be a lot. As the saying went, "We didn't cross the border, the border crossed us"

As far as the Ballas and Families went, for years the two biggest black gangs in L.S. fought for control of Davis and other South Central areas for years, the black population had declined since the early 2000's. Many had moved to the south east the very same place they had once come from some sixty plus years ago to find opportunity in the west. The population in Davis was now only 32% black. This was a shocking statistic considering what it had been in the 90's.

"Besides, Culebra, any of these ball sacks or Tranny's tries anything out here with us while we're just trying to give our homeboy a lift home, the Vagos from Davis Varrio Taco Flats will back us up and even if they don't, tu sabes, we got cuetes in the carucha. Guacha!"

He opened the glove box and showed him. There was a M9 handgun, standard sidearm for a soldier. As they pulled up a trio of menn, all of them African American approached. One had on a white T shirt with purple letters that read SA for the state.. He wore a baseball hat and a couple of gold hoop earrings and black shorts. A second wore a blue T shirt over a purple Los Santos Panics jersey. He had a mini afro. The third smelled like cigarette smoke. He wore a black T shirt and a violet do-rag as well as matching shorts. "Hey what up, loc? You know where you're at, partner?"

The guy in the white T had was not about to back down. "East Los. Who the fuck are you muchachos? You got a problem or what, joto?" The guy in the jersey with corn rows said, "Oh aint this some shit? Fucking varrio rat wanna creep up in our neighborhood like he running shit out here. I say we murk this bitch and dip!" Lefty pulled his pistol out and aimed at the guy with the gun. "I think you're forgetting who's the majority here, tough guy,"

The guy with the do-rag said, "The fuck this nigga talking about? It's three on three but you got a bitch in the car," Rosa said, "Why don't we go one to one and we can see who the bitch is?" Lefty shook his head at the guy. "Not what I meant..." They thought about it a second.

The guy in the cornrows said, "That don't mean nothing! We're the niggas that make this town famous You just come up in here like you own the place. So what if you got more numbers? That's all you got. Without a bunch of you, you'd all be pussies."

Just then, the guy in the do-rag said, "Hey cuz we gotta do that shit another time. We're right in front of the police station, g. And I got priors. I aint trying to get locked up over a stupid move. Let's just catch these bitch made girls slipping some other time, aight?"

The gang member put the gun away and they backed off. "You just remember we gave your ass a pass this time and stay the fuck outta Davis cause next time it aint gonna be no passes and I'lll let my burner do the talking for me. Even the skirt get lit up if she come round here,"

The guy in the white T grinned and then licked his lips. "Nah, better yet, we run a train on her fine ass. Real talk, nigga," Lefty pointed his gun at the man. "You want to die right now?" The guy sneered, "Go ahead. You'll just get arrested."

Lefty lowered the gun but warned, "Next time I see you, in any part of the city, your hood, my hood, or elsewhere, all bets are off," The do- rag Baller led his two homies away and said, "You fuck with the Ballas you take a dirt nap. We aint bullshitting. Remember that!" Rosa shouted back, "You aint touching me, maricon! I'll bite your dick off before I ever let you stick it in!"

The man grinned saying, "We'll see," Lefty warned, "This isn't over, you little shits. I'll catch you on the rebound, fucking lobster culeros. You'd better watch your back cause that's my sister you were talking to."

Inside the station, Armando "Joker" Gonzales had just been released. Some Vagos, at least four or five of them were fighting a pack of Families even as they were all being arrested. One vago had managed to get his hand cuffs off and he was swinging on a Family member giving him a bloody nose. One of the deputies yelled, "How the fuck did that asshole get the cuffs off? I need some help here!"

A female officer tried to get him in a head lock but he drove his elbow into her face. Meanwhile, A family Member, while still cuffed had managed to get his hands from behind his back to the front and he began to try to strange the arresting officer with his handcuffs. "Punk motherfucker! I aint the one to be man handling!"

One cop who managed to get the attacking South Sider down by using his taser looked at Joker and said, "What's the matter, homes? Aren't you gonna back up your homies here? Wanna take a swing at me? Come on, man! I want you to do it! I invite you to!" The female officer had blood on her lip and gave the unconscious Vago on the ground a kick in the side saying, "You knocked a tooth loose, carbon!"

Joker responded to the pig. "Chale vato. I'm clean and so serene. I'm not in no gang anymore. I'm a changed man. Didn't you get the memo?" As the officers subdued the Family thugs and the Vagos a few of them laughed. "Yeah, I can see why they call you Joker, Gonzales. you're a funny guy! If you've reformed, asshole, I'm the freaking pope!" Said a white cop with slicked back blonde hair. Joker grinned wickedly and told him, "Well then I'll have to start calling you your holiness, officer," With that, he crossed himself as Catholics often did all though Joker was far from a pious or religious man."

His parole officer told him, "Okay, Armando, you got two strikes, pal. Remember that. Any gang affiliation from this point on is parole violation and you're gone for good. As we talked about before we will also have routine urine tests for drugs. Don't screw this up, Gonzales. And get those tattoos removed. Black them out, laser removal do whatever you have to do but get rid of them."

Joaquin ducked down in the car and said, "Shit! That's Officer Castillo! I hate that puto! He used to be a narco up in Northern San An but he became a P.O. just so he'd have a different way to fuck up people's lives!" Lefty and he ducked down. Out came Joker to the car. He was a light brown skinned man with neck length black hair that was so wavy it almost was curly. He also had hazel eyes and several tattoos on his arms. One of which said **Mara Bunta Grande **and a 13 underneath it.

He wore a white wife beater and gray khakis. Over that he had on a blue denim jacket. He walked out to the car and said, "Orale, vatos! The fuck are you doing ducked down in the car like teenagers? You look like a high school prom couple trying to French kiss before her daddy sees them."

As he got in the back next to Rosa she said, "It's because these two got priors. Joaquin, aint that your P.O.?" Joaquin nodded. "Yeah, I hate that bitch. I want to put him to sleep for good. I'm tired of malinches like him locking our gente up. Then they got the nerve to act like they aint thugs themselves."

Joaquin sighed and sat up to drive. "I guess I'll have to give that motherfucker a call later on. Let's just get back to the neighborhood, eh. Too many fucking puercos."

They began to drive off back to the hood. "Joaquin? When did you get out of the slammer, ese? It's been a long time. The last time I saw you was before I went inside myself. Of course I was out for a bit in the two years you were gone but you know how it is, bro."

Joaquin said, "No I don't, jefe. So what is up? What'd you do time in the pinta for?" Joker put a pair of sunglasses on. "A little of this, a little of that. Got caught selling coka over in Strawberry. Over near Chamberlain Hills. Got one o these base heads so strung out she'd anything or a hit. She normally smokes crack but she must have won the lotto or something because she bought an eighth from me that day. Narcos must have been watching."

Joaquin looked back at the older man asking, "Serio? Be careful out there, cabron! That's Family turf. Come to think of it there's also Ballas in that area too but they're not as dug in as the Families. Speaking of which we just had a run in with some of those chavalos. Fuckers said they were gonna rape Rosalita. Not on my fucking watch, eh. Culebra's back in town."

She smiled and playfully smacked him on the shoulder saying, "Gracias, Culebra but I'm a grown woman I can take care of myself as well as any man," She then joked, "My dick is bigger than theirs. I'd probably rape them before they raped me," They all howled with laughter but Lefty said, "Man, if jefita heard you talking like that, she'd probably beat both of our asses cause she'd assume I taught you how to speak that way!"

She chuckled. "I did learn it from you, pendejo! You and your homies weren't very discreet when you were in your room smoking mota. I could hear everything you fools were saying. Your lucky neither mama or padre were home yet or they would have beat your ass for lighting up in the canton."

Joker was smoking on the half finished blunt that Lefty had sparked up. He blew smoke saying, "So how about you, J? Did you get any brotherly love in the pinta? Tell me something was it a white guy named Bubba or a Negro named Jojo that spread your butt cheeks, bro?" This got a laugh out of Lefty but Joaquin flipped him off. "Chale, puto, some might have tried shit but they didn't get far I don't go roll that way. What about you, big timer? I heard you were a GURD yourself."

Joker frowned, "What does that even mean?" Rosa chuckled. "It means Gay Until Release Date. Nice one, Joaquin,"They pulled the ranfla up through Strawberry as Joker instructed him to. "I know I just got out and everything but I need some money now that I'm back. I don't give a shit what that cono, Castillo has to say about it either. He expects me to not earn but he's not gonna pay the bills around the hood is he?"

Lefty gave him some rocks to sell. "Orale, just get it back to me whenever homes. No worries. I know how it is getting adjusted back on the streets. Just keep a trucha around here and be quick, entiendes? This is Tranny's turf like J said. As far as I know anyway. There's other cliquas around here too but they're the main ones."

Lefty kept the cuete in his lap ready to shoot if he had to if any enemies came up to fuck with them. A light skinned high yellow black woman in high shorts with a short straight haircut, that was clearly a weave. "Oh snap! Well if it isn't the big time Latin Mafioso! What's good my Hispanic brotha? You got some shit? I've been trying to lay off it but you know...J.B...he be out and about all hours of the night and I worry about him! I just need something to take the edge off."

He scolded her, "Callate, mujer. I'm not no Hispanic. Soy El Salvadorian Do I look Spaniard to you, pendeja? You look good...well all things considered. I think I might have what you need. I don't have that finer Colombian shit though so some boulders will have to do."

She was shaking. "Shit, boi didn't yo mama ever tell you that the customer is always right?" Joker told her, "I'm pretty sure when my jetfita told me that, she didn't have crack heads in mind,"

She got out a wrinkled up twenty dollar bill. "Tough times, mija? You've seen better days. Just saying."

She seemed annoyed. "Well J.B.'s out there getting his smoke on God knows where...and he don't come home for day time. Hey boo boo, can you front me another twenty? On my mama I'll pay you back. Just...maybe if J.B. had something to smoke on he won't have to leave me all the time. Come on...I'll make it worth your while..."

Joker held up a hand and said, "Stop. I know what you're going to say and I'm not interested. I'll front you a twenty but...I expect it paid back to me in a week. I'm serious, Tonya. If I don't have that money, it's going to be J.B. who suffers the consequences. I'll have to take one of his arms," Tonya's eyes widened as she knew the Central American gangster meant business. The Mara Bunta Grande were known for two things.

Tattoos on their eyelids, and carrying a machete. Many felt it was better than a gun. It was sneakier and bloodier. More up close and personal. He gave the ashy skinned drug addict the rocks and said, "And I'll have to have some of the homegirls fuck you up too. Your man drives a tow truck, right? I hear some big timer bought the business. He'd better get back in the truck and start earning feria..."

She seemed in disbelief, "It's just twenty dollars, man...that aint reason enough to smoke somebody...damn! I aint showered in two days and even I aint doing that bad!" Joker walked back to the car and shook his head. "It's not about that. It's the principal. I make examples out of people not exceptions for them. If I did make an exception for you I'd have to make one for everybody else. Just make sure he pays up and there won't be any problems. Remember you wanted it."

He walked back to the car and Lefty called to him, "Hurry up, ese! You're already taking too long!" Just the a Family gang member in a black do rag, a green Magnetics T shirt and green shorts approached him. "Hey dog, where you from? You just think you can sling on my corner, motherfucker?" The guy got in Joker's face. Joker lit a cigarette. "Who said it was your corner, man? If you hadn't noticed, we're all over the country. This city was your hood for maybe forty tears till now."

The guy pulled out a 9mm and pointed at him sideways. "The fuck you say, bitch? This is Chamberlain Families hood. Maybe you new in town, maybe you just crossed the border homie but we run this hood. We run Strawberry, we run Chamberlain Hills, got niggas in Rancho and now we finna take back all our hoods in Davis. You think you can weasel in on my business?"

Joker showed no fear and intentionally blew smoke in his face to show he was not afraid of him. "I don't see you selling her any shit. Guess you don't handle your business very well. If this is your turf I shouldn't have to come out here fresh out of jail and take her hard earned money. Families should be selling her twenty pieces. Don't you know the customers are always right?" He smiled and winked at the crack head in front of the store.

She spoke up saying, "Come on, Dion, you know you wouldn't sell me nothin. Wouldn't spot me, not anything! You supposed to be from the hood but can't sow a homegirl no love, huh?" The gang member, Dion, said, "Girl you know I fronted you shit before and what you do? Dodge me and then J.B. gotta fork over his bread from his job to pay for your mistake. He maybe a clucker but at least that fool has a job! Something your ass needs instead of emotionally scarring everybody with them daisy dukes."

Lefty got out of the car and pointed his own pistol at the Family thug. "Hey guess what, cabron? That's my compenero you're fucking with so either put the gun down or I'll put you down," He saw that he had him but he whistled, "Yo!" Just then, Joker spun around and swung his machete at Dion's left arm.

He cut his hand off at the wrist and the pistol collapsed next to the bloody severed limb. Dion howled n pain and Joker warned, "Your customers are mine. The tranny's aren't running shit in this town. We're big all over. You're only big where you matter in South Central. Next time I'll take your head."

He got back in the car. "Floor it, Culebra!" He did putting his foot to the gas and at least three other Family gang members came running to see what the commotion was about. "That motherfucker! He took my hand! My girl is gonna flip the fuck out!" A Family thug took his own green do-rag off and wrapped it up but was frustrated to see the blood still seeped through so now he took his shirt off. One of them yelled "The fuck you doing disrespecting the colors for, nigga? You lost your mind?"

The guy tried to keep pressure on the wound and said, "Hey, nigga fuck there aint nothing I won't do for my homies, blood! That's what we about more than any colors! Hang on, D, you're gonna be fine!"The third gang member,a short and scrawny but mean looking African American with dreads retrieved his pistol from the back of his pants and aimed at the fleeing car full of South Siders but then the other one said, "Eh, hold up, fool! One time nine o'clock! Don't start popping off or you'll bring down heat on all of us!"

Meanwhile, Joker and Lefty laughed as they sped off. "You see that shit, vato? I took that little panocha's fucking hand, homes! I hope he's a righty, loco!" Joaquin shook his head. "I can see you haven't changed a bit these last few years, Joke. Same day you get out on parole and you're already ready to put a guy in the ground. Lefty said, "Hey just don't take my hand, ese! It aint just my hand it's my trade mark!" It was true. Back in his earlier gangster days, Lefty had earned that nickname for his mean left hook.

He had earned that reputation both in boxing and in street brawls. His punches usually were a one hitter quitter even against larger opponents and when they weren't they at least did do some damage enough for him to throw another one. If it was in fact true, the stereotype that young gang bangers were all cowards and only got in fights if they were ganging up on somebody, and in fact could not fight, Lefty was the polar opposite of that but then, he was a veterano.

Lefty could hold his own fist to fist or in a gun fight. A sharp contrast to the stereotypical millennial gang banger who was a punk if he didn't have five homies or a weapon in hand. Joaquin was no veterano all though he had put his fair share of work in for the hood but he wasn't a pee wee either. He was twenty five years old. Joker just growled "Then don't try too peel me away from Tonya, home!" Lefty chuckled saying, "Don't tell me you'd actually let that base head near your dick?"

Joker chuckled taking a drag. Joaquin wished he would not smoke cigarettes but he was the shot caller. "You know I can see a lot has changed, Lefty! The tuna has gone bad!" They both howled and Joaquin finally spoke up. "Hey don't you guys got any manners? There's a lady present!" Rosa rolled her eyes. "Nothing I aint heard before , papi."

Lefty said, "Yeah, J, don't blame me, fool its this horny boboso he's actually contemplating dope head pussy," Joker said, "Callete, puto it wasn't like that! Maybe if it was ten years before she started smoking that shit, vato."

As they dove through suddenly a Cavalcade pulled up and a car load of people opened fire on them. "Fuck! Is it the Families after us again?" Rosa yelled as she got her own gun out. "Chale! It's those fake teen fuckers!" They were being attacked by an Azteca set. The Varrio Los Aztecas were technically a South Side gang as well but had a long time rivalry with Mara Bunta.

They were in an even more intense war with the Families from Chamberlain Hills which Joaquin heard, the Families had started. All though the Aztecas, just like the mainstream Vagos 13 as well as Mara Bunta Grande were all South Siders and all under the Mexican Mafia's rule, the Aztecas often tried to deviate from the rules now a lot these days. They were at war with the Families because some Chamberlain Family gangsters had shot a few Aztecas when they were in their hood and it had escalated but unlike the Mara Bunta and the Vagos it was not a racial thing for the Aztecas. They were simply banging on their enemies, business as usual.

The Aztecas had tried to stay out of the Black vs Brown war but it also depended on which varrio you were dealing with. The Tiny Winos cliqua in Strawberry were a gang that was friendly with blacks even some of the neighboring Baller sets but still had hated the Family's,. Yet in other areas of Los Santos, like their original hood of Pico & Northern, they would and had carried out La Ondas orders of a green light against blacks.

However the Tiny Winos, wich was what gang these guys were in, were what they called mayateros. "Pinche Mara Puta! The fuck are you doing in Strawberry. dog? This is our turf. You jotos don't belong around here!" Rosa and Lefty fired back at them and Joker yelled, "Fuck! Joaquin floor it, man!"

Lefty shouted taunts back as he wounded one of the thugs in the back seat. "I could have sworn I saw some Tranny's back there so it must not be your turf after all, huh you fucking chavala?!" One of them yelled, "Fuck you, nigga you know we beefing with them too but Mara Bunta's don't belong in Strawberry. 106th street, putos! Por vida!" Yelled one of them as he fired and a shot almost hit Rosa in the head missing her by inches.

Lefty shouted, "Oye, Culebra, these punks won't give up! There's a cuete in the glove box for you to use, man, get rid of these fucking rankers!" Joaquin tried to drive with one hand and shoot with the other as the teal SUV kept after them. "You hear that little faketeen bitch call me a fucking nigger, homes? Pinche mayatero trying to be black," Yelled Lefty.

The Azteca swerved trying to avoid their bullets just as the Mara Bunta's were. The gang member talking shit yelled said, "I said nigga not nigger! We aint racist unlike you Mara Putas! Fuck you and the Vagos homes!" Lefty scoffed and shouted back, "Same fucking difference!" Joaquin agreed. It didn't matter to him how much they said nigga was a term of endearment, the fact of the matter was it was like saying bitch and beyotch weren't the same just because they were spelled and pronounced different.

Joaquin fired hitting one of the Aztecas in the left arm, a man in the left side of the back seat. "Yeah, fucking fake teen chavalas stop trying to be something you're not! M.G.B. por vida!" He squeezed off a few rounds at the car and hit the same guy in the left elbow and once in his left breast. Lefty fired hitting the passenger shooter in the front with a head shot. Rosa fired as well hitting the driver in the chest and he crashed.

Joaquin took a sharp right onto a freeway. He needed to get them out of South Central. He got onto the freeway that would take them to East Los Santos. They had managed to shake the vehicle full of Aztecas for now. "Fucking putos! I know it's that motherfucker King G who puts them up to that shit."

King G was a well respected member of Strawberry's Azteca cliqua. He was an underground Chicano rapper but was constantly on the balls of most black rappers while at the same time would insult other Chicano rappers who had made it in the game. Most South Siders hated him. He claimed he was representing barrio rap but they all had to call bullshit on that. There were realer south siders on the streets of L.S. than him. Hell probably in other states too.

Lefty growled, "They give the Aztec tribe a bad name by naming themselves after it. How the fuck are you gonna be a Chicano and act like somebody else?" Joker simply said, "Who knows why people do the things they do? It's stupidity, hermano. Maybe they think they're too good to be like real cholos."

They finally got back to the hood and Joker said, "Hey it's good to have you back, Joaquin. Thanks for the ride. You too, Lefty," Lefty then said, "Oye, mano, here, for your troubles."

He gave him a hundred dollars. "Hey, I know how it is getting settled back in on the streets after time in the big house, carnalito. Let me know if you need more help I'll be happy to help a brother in need. By the way, you got a place to stay? If you don't, I always got a couch you can crash on."

Culebra declined saying, "No I'm good bro. I got a place I'll stay for a few days. Then I'll see about something else later,"

He hailed a cab to an old spot. What many did not now about him was that he had spent a lot of his life homeless before he had joined the Mara Bunta's at fifteen. He thought about his life as the cab drove there. He had lost his parents at a young age to a car accident. He'd been from foster home to foster home from age seven to age fourteen but it had been hell. He had ran away and had been on the streets homeless. He had lied to Lefty. All though that was his home boy, he did not want to burden anybody and often in the past when he'd had a bad day, he'd come to this place when he wanted to have time to himself. When he was younger he'd had to fight off junkies and other bums and even a few pedophiles.

Now that he had mucho clout, nobody would fuck with him. That plus he was a trained killer. He pulled up to it twenty minutes later. He rested on the same bench he had all these years ago. Though it was not the most comfortable, him and that bench had become old friends. He was supposed to be set up with housing so he knew this would not be permanent and he didn't want his parole officer always keeping tabs on him.

_Rockford Hills, Los Santos_

Franklin Clinton and Lamar Davis knocked on the door to Micheal De Santa's place. Amanda answered the door. "Oh it's you. Who's your friend?" Franklin politely said, "This is Lamar Davis. Mike is expecting us. He told me to bring a friend and well, this is a guy I grew up with,"

She stepped aside and let them in and said, "Just make sure he doesn't steal anything. I heard about what happened the last time you were here. You broke in and stole Jimmy's vehicle."

He rolled his eyes. "I thought we were past all that? Besides, I didn't steal it I repossessed it and I was here more recently than that. When you and the kids abandoned your husband i was here watching out for him because that's what friends do!" Jimmy came downstairs and said, "F Dog! What's up, homie! Hey, I'm up there tapping fools up on the games my man you wanna come join? Hey, I know you," He said looking at Lamar. "You were at that dealership too."

He turned to his mom and said, "Mom, its cool yo. F Dog is my road dog. He and I are brothers from another mother. He saved me from...well you can just ask dad later."

Franklin slapped hands with Jimmy De Santa and said, "Hey that's cool, bro but I'ma have to holla at you later, Jimmy. I gotta talk to your pops," Amanda said, "He's out there by the pool...again. At least he's listening to his Mp3 instead of drinking though," As they walked out and Amanda went back upstairs, Lamar said, "Nigga that's that bullshit, Frank, why I gotta be a thief, huh? Every nigga from the hood aint a thief!"

Franklin warned him, "Hey just relax, fool. This is a first impression so try not to fuck it up and act like you got some class, aight?" Lamar chuckled, "Yeah she maybe stuck up as hell but I like them tig ol bitties, dog! Dizam that's a nice rack!" Franklin scoffed, "The fuck is wrong with you? What if one of them hears you talking like that?" Micheal took the ear phones out. The older white male was dressed in a light blue polar shirt and gray cargo shorts as usual. "Hey, guys! Glad you made it in. I'm having T come over here too and Lester should be here in about a half an hour. This must be your friend. Leroy, right?"

Lamar stepped up. "No, man it's Lamar. Lamar Davis. Franklin's my best friend. We grew up together. Same as you and Crazy Dude I'd imagine," Michael shook his hand but chuckled. "I didn't grow up with him but we do have history that much is for sure. Anyway, Frank tells me you can handle yourself in a gun fight. If you remember, I'm the guy who helped rescue you. The only one you didn't see."

Franklin nodded and Lamar said, "Aw yeah now I remember. Yup you crept up on those Ballas, huh. Hey good looking out homie, real talk! You did some pretty good shooting back there. Guess the boy Frank isn't in bad company after all."

Franklin asked Micheal, "Who what's the business?" He said, "I know the Union Depository was supposed to be our last job but we've got an opportunity to make sure we never go broke. Any of us. Fact is, the Merryweather goons will be after us because of all their guys T killed, plus the feds that were after that gold we stole from the UD. They may not have gotten it when they though the three of us were melting it down but that doesn't mean they aren't still looking. We have enough money to be taken care of but we need to be more secure than we've been."

He took a drink of whatever kind of booze he'd been sipping. "Ahhhhh...that's good stuff...anyway...now we can enjoy the fruits of our labor. No FIB, no Devin Weston breathing down our necks, no Merryweather. I mean, we can expect reprisal but right now, we're just going to need to figure out a plan to make all of this happen so that these assholes aint a problem in the future. Frank, I assume you've told Lamar some of what we went through?"

Franklin nodded. "Oh fo sho! I won't leave my friends in the dark! So what's the plan then? We just cap anybody else that might still be gunning for us? I'm with it but we need to be careful. Have a plan, have the guns and ammo to do it."

Micheal corrected him, "No, id. What we need is an army, hell a fucking empire. You own several businesses's now Trevor has his meth business and I'm working with Solomon Richards. Our enemies will notice power like that and try to use it against us. We need an empire or at least power to make sure our lives and our investments will be safe."

Lamar asked, "So where do I come in with all of this?" Micheal set the glass down. "Frank said you were in need of money so he put in a good word for you. Don't get me wrong there will be more jobs. It will take money to get what we need. More than we have. There's a few things me and Trevor discussed that we may need but it costs money. More than we've all got even with as much as we make now."

Franklin turned to his friend, "So now you met the man, you know what it is. You in on or out, man?" Lamar slapped hands with Franklin and then did the same with Micheal. "Shit, I'm in like hair on a French itches arm pits! I'm your man, dog!" Micheal nodded. "Good to have you on board. Well need more people in on this but we'll get to that once Trevor and Lester get here."

* * *

_So I decided to make a story somewhat based on my Online character and yeah I made Joaquin half Chicano half Navajo i found it stupid that in a town where Mexicans & Central Americans are pretty much the largest group in LA two protagonists were white and one was black yet no Ese's._

_I also had that bit with Joaquin and the cops because to many label Mexicans, Central Americans, and South Americans as Latino or Hispanic just cause they speak Spanish when in reality they are Indigenous. Of course many people are used to the term Latin but come on is it so hard to imagine Mexicans are Indigenous? I mean it's the same continent._

_Anyway so Joaquin s visually inspired by Benjamin Bratt a Peruvian Indigenous man and he was in Blood In Blood Out, Snitch, Catwoman, & Traffic._

_Lefty is the gang name that Emilio Rivera went by which is who he is based on, back when he was in a gang. Also those of you who read Sunbelt by Stelm who I am helping write that with, which is based on Houston, Emilio Rivera was born in Houston i think but moved to L.A._

_Also I'm not sure who I will have as Rosa yet I will get back about that. I have Benecio Del Torro as Joker. Oh and King G was a reference to the rapper King Lil G who pretty much is exactly as Lefty described, kind of a two faced asshole who claims to represent La Raza but he insults other Sureno rappers yet is pretty much licking Dr Dre and Kanye's nuts._

_A mayatero is when a non black person of color tries to act like a black person. It's frowned upon by most cholos. Mayatero is a word play on the derogatory term for African Americans known as Mayates or mayate which is Nahuatl word for beetle._

_Also La Onda is based on the Mexica Mafia or La Eme and is the same replica used in Blood In Blood Out because they wanted to be careful as American Me pissed off the Mexican Mob so they wanted to be more careful with movies._

_I deleted my story Volition just so you all know but I may transition my characters from there into this as supporting OC's. Oh and also i figured I would make Joaquin homeless that could be the one way he's unique and new as far as GTA goes. Franklin just seems like a repeat of CJ to me their voices are even similar. Where as Micheal is the first family man in GTA and Trevor is the first meth head protagonist._

_By the way Mara Bunta Grande is Rock Star's replica of MS-13. I included that bit on doing away with rape cause that is what happened when they came under La Eme's control. Also I noticed Zane, another author on here once went on about how terrible MS-13 was so bad cause they kill innocent people or rape and what have you but its like come on man don't be a hypocrite you said I was a hypocrite or rather that I had made Spooky in Cross Fire a hypocrite for that drug dealing regulation in Cross Fire but it's like mean the crips kill innocent people all the time too are you really gonna excuse that?_

_Plus there was this crip in prison gang lands saying how many crips might rape a Blood's girlfriend and say "Tell your slob boyfriend crips is real" You don't see something wrong with that? You really wanna act like crips are more honorable than MS-13? MS is only considered worse cause there are more of them. The fact is too in black gangs I never hear of rapists getting dealt with. At east in our gangs, they are dealt with. Even the Latin Kings while I can't say I like them, they dealt with rapists too. It's a big no no._

_By the way, as far as the difference between other GTA stories i wrote i had the Aztecas as Surenos because thats what I thought Aztecas represented in GTA SA and Vagos was 18th street but it seems in V they switched it around so Vagos are Surenos and Aztecas are 18th street. I mean 18th street is considered a Sureno gang when they go to the pen but a lot of them try to be autonomous despite the hierarchical structure of the Mexican Mob._

_Also, the BGA Black Guerrilla Army is based on the real life Black Guerrilla Family who makes sure the bloods and crips dont fight in jail. By the way crips in GTA V is Ballas and Families are Bloods same as last time. Strawberry is based on Inglewood as Idlewood was in he GTA III universe. Murietta Heights is Boyle Heights. If you guys need to see what the GTA V LS areas represent just look up Los Santos in HD era on gta Wikia._

_By the way slang break down : Ranker= Coward._

_Chavala=Punk_

_La Jura= Police_

_Companero= Homie or friend. Companera is the female equal._

_Fusca/cuete= Gun_

_Oh and and sor the insult lobsters that was meant to be based on calling a crip a crab the insult for them. When I looked up crab on Urban Dictionary and the definition was_

_When the level of someones public lice or "crabs" gets to an unbearable level. Plus it almost rhymes with Ballas. Tranny's is what I came up with as a diss for Families._

_Varrio Rat would go for just about any of the South Side gangs. Anyway, so that's all for this chapter, I know it wasn't a well done cliff hanger with Micheal & Franklin but I though Lamar should finally get to meet him._

_And yes later Joaquin will meet up with the other three characters. Anyway, R& R!_


	2. Capping The Capitalist

_OK here is chapter two thought I'd get on it right away so that it would still be fresh. As far as the three main protagonists go, yes they're planning on still taking big scores but a lot of shit will happen between now and then. Including in this chapter. Stuff that would have them needing money. The shit willesculate more later on. _

* * *

Franklin looked at Micheal and asked, "Hold up a second, Mike. One thing doesn't make sense. If we need more cheddar like you say what the hell could we possibly want that twenty four mil aint gonna cover?"

Micheal sighed. "Yeah, about that, I got some bad news, kid. I went to check my bank account this morning and it looks like each of us only have about two million. Somebody has cleaned out our bank accounts. I don't know who and I don't know why but I called Dave and he doesn't even know what's going on. If he doesn't know, that means this is pretty big. Maybe FIB, maybe Merryweather. Maybe even IAA! Somebody is fucking with us."

Franklin thought it through. "For real? Wow...I don't know what to say..." He then thought it over and said, "You know what? It doesn't even matter, bro. I'm happy with two million I mean it isn't the amount of money we started out with but I could live the rest of my life on two million. Man somebody from my hood could have made 500 g's last if they invested it in a bank. So I'm not about to look a gift horse in its mouth."

Micheal disagreed. "To hell with that. We all went through a lot of effort to get that money. Gustavo, Packie, you, me T, we put forth the effort so who the fuck do these cock suckers think they are stealing what we already stole?!" Franklin shrugged. "You did say when we first met that's how capitalism is. Somebody's gotta get screwed."

Mike glared, "Well that somebody doesn't need to be me. I've worked practically my whole life for this and all I wanted was to spend the rest of my years in peace. I could retire and now these cunts think they can just take whatever they want from us? We put in the effort, goddamn it! Not them!"Franklin held his hands up, "Aight, man, chill! Look we're gonna get to the bottom of this. You phone Les yet?"

He sighed. "He's on his way. Along with Trevor," Trevor and Lester came through the door and Trevor said, I hear my name? Are we gossip girls now?" Lamar held his fist out to pound and Trevor did. "It was nothing bad, T."

Franklin said, "Nothing bad? You said some motherfuckers came and drained our bank accounts, homie! I mean I'm happy to take the two mil I got now and walk but what if they try and drain that too?" Trevor nodded, "Yep. They drained Mikey's account early this morning. Talk to the other goons that were with us at the big score and they said the same thing. Actually now that I think about it, they said their accounts were drained completely. I'm lucky they haven't touched my funds yet. I was looking to get some new vehicles for the business. Keep the money flowing in through Blaine County."

Micheal pointed out, "I wouldn't be so quick to assume that, T. We should head down to the nearest ATM and check your balance and make sure. Whoever has been doing this has a lot of power and somehow has access to our bank accounts,"Franklin suggested, "Hey man, why not just use your phone to check the account? It's the twenty first century, dog what's wrong with you?"

Trevor checked and said, "Yeah, Mikey what's wrong with you?"

He then exploded and yelled, "WHAT?! I will fucking destroy them! Who the fuck ripped me off, Michael?! I swear on my mothers name I will rip out their intestines and stick my boy in there and tear them a new asshole. WHO DO THESE CUNTS THINK THEY ARE?!"

Michael tried to calm his friend down. "Trevor, it's gonna be fine. We're going to find out who did this. Dave should be calling me back too. Said there was some trouble with the Bureau. Some internal shit hit the fan. There may be some problems with that down the line," Franklin questioned, "Hold on, Mike. I thought we were done with the feds? What do we need Davey for? he last time you got mixed up with them you almost got killed. Remember that thing you told me about a shootout between Merryweather, IAA and the FIB? They're bad news, bro. All of them. They're worse than all the gangs, mob families and low life crooks put together! I'd rather work with the Ballas at this point than ever break bread with the FIB."

Michael informed him, "I get what you're saying kid, but it's really not that simple. We've all committed some serious crimes and Dave is our only ally in the government that can help us. Without him, I'd be in prison or dead. He maybe a prick but he's done all right by me and my family. The thing is, even while we got away with our scores, there's still a lot of heat on our asses. In ways that Dave can only begin to help with but he can't do it all. And with all this money we made and now have lost, we'll also need enough money to buy ourselves each pardons."

Trevor snarled, "Jesus Christ Micheal! You think this is one of your goddamn Wild West tales? You can't buy a fucking pardon. You're going to have to be living off the grid like me, amigo!" Micheal shook his head. "Hey, I got a family to look after. You know I cant do that."

Trevor crossed his arms. "Oh really, Mikey? Is that what you think? Well guess what? Your kids? They're grown adults! They're both of legal age in the state of San Andreas. So how much more are you going to coddle them? I love them as much as you do but Mike, you're crippling them."

Mike turned to him saying, "Oh really? You're the expert now?" Lester cleared his throat. "Gentlemen...I've made some notes and a plan as to what we can do. I've got a van with a board set p inside of it."

Franklin held his hand out. "Okay, Les. After you!" They headed into the front of the mansion and got into the van. He turned on a light in there and said, "Okay so here's what we've got. We just need Dave to call Micheal back to confirm that it's a go. The FIB is actually trying some mafiosos on a high profile case involving the laundering of at least a million dollars. That's not that much of a dent in the money we made before but it's a start," The chubby blonde man said.

Franklin''s curiosity was aroused. "Mafia? Here in Los Santos? You must be talking about them Ese's that run the streets from the big pen right?" Lester corrected him. "Actually no. It's the Gambetti's out of Las Venturas. It'll take some putting together but in a nut shell, they're using that money that the FIB seized in one of their stings as evidence against a few of the major fat cats in the Gambetti's. We can take that money."

Trevor wasn't sure about it. "That sounds like a stupid plan. You have any idea what kind of heat that would bring down? Who even does that? Steals money from a trial? I don't know anything about any mob family but what do I care if they get locked up? It's more money they aint talking from me and that's how I like it!"

Micheal sighed, "Trevor, what does it matter? Money is still money and don't you know anything? Money is usually returned to its owner after a trial. It's only destroyed if it happened to be used in the crime. Guns, drugs, money, you name it," Trevor was in one of his pseudo intellectual moods where he would try and one up Micheal. "Hmmmm...you mean like in a money laundering, racketeering case? USE YOUR FUCKING BRAIN, MICHEAL! That's as involved in the crime as it gets!"

Micheal told him, "Simmer the fuck down, T before I get annoyed. I know what they'll probably do. That's why we're going to break into the courthouse during the trial and get the money. Look, maybe or maybe not, the judge is forced to declare a mistrial, some goombah trash gets set free...or maybe they get life sentences anyway if they take the rap for tampering with evidence and obstruction of justice in a federal case."

Lester showed them the board. "Okay, so, what we can basically do here is one of two things as usual. We can either go loud and obvious or go in subtle and quiet. If we go in loud, we'll need some explosives, an armored truck to make it look like we're just some men working for the bank transferring money from point A to point B. Of course, that's assuming things go according to plan which they most likely won't. In which case, we'll need a helicopter so we'll need Trevor to pick us up in a helicopter so we'll send him to the Sandy Shores air field before the job goes down. If we can shake them then, we should be clear. We'll also need to be armed to the teeth and we'll need three gunmen and a driver for the armored vehicle."

Franklin was curious, "Okay. I'm feeling that but what about doing it quiet and subtle?" Lester circled another section of the board where he'd been doodling. "Okay, for that we'll need more equipment. I can maybe call in a bomb threat to the court house. Meanwhile, we get a hold of some bomb squad gear, and we make our way in there and get out with the money. We'll also be needing a helicopter for that too just to get us out of the area as fast as possible. We'll need the same amount of gunmen so it would be a good idea to get a getaway car too. For the rest of the gunmen to get away. Obviously not everyone can ride in the chopper."

He looked at the plans and said, "All right, kids. What's it going to be?"

Several minutes later they exited the van. As they were all getting ready to go separate ways having made their decisions, Franklin greeted Tracey who had just gotten back. "Jimmy, who's this? Mom says Dad is around him all the time."

The overweight wigger said, "This is my nizzle F Dog!" Franklin shot him a funny look so he dropped the facade even if only for a minute. "Uhhh...this is Franklin Clinton. He's the guy that saved me from a bunch of gangsters when they stole Dad's boat. He's also the guy who kept dad from committing suicide when we left him. I can't decide if it would have been a gun or pills and a shot of whiskey."

Franklin and Tracey said in unison, "Jimmy!" He looked at them like a deer in head lights. "That's your pops, man! That aint cool! How are you doing? I'm Franklin, nice to meet you. You're Tracey right?" She shook his hand blushing a bit. "Yeah. It's like...nice to meet you. Daddy...I mean my dad talked a lot about you. He sees you as like the son he never had. Like, a son that wasn't an obese lazy turd."

Franklin laughed but Jimmy flipped her the bird. "Fuck off, Tracey. I swear to God you must be adopted! Why else don't you have hair like anybody else in the family?" She groaned, "Ugh! It's because I dyed it you fat fucker! Do you have a brain?" He folded his arms, "Well if you want to be so different from the family you may as well be adopted!" She shoved him saying, "Well I think you've got dad's man boobs enough for both of us!"

He flipped her off and said, "Fuck you Tracey! If you want to talk about that, I guess we can see you get your slutty behavior from mom back when she used to be a stripper!" Franklin stepped between the two. "Hold on, guys I know it aint my family or my business but I don't really understand how it is up here so much. If I talked to my parents like that my parents would have kicked my ass!"

In a sense this was true. Lamar often said that Franklin should not disrespect his aunt Denise. He had not always done so when he was much younger but once he had come of age he was too big for her to hit anymore. "Anyway, it's nice to meet you. Tracey. You're the only one of the family I hadn't met yet."

She said, "Yeah like...what Jimmy said. You're totally cool!. I mean I heard what all you did for our dad. I know that some of those FIB and Merryweather guys wanted him dead and even wanted you to kill him but you helped him and Uncle Trevor. I'm glad you did. It was the right thing to do."

Franklin couldn't help but think to himself. _Damn! For a white breezy she's kinda fine though! I wonder if she's legal or not. She got cakes for days too..._

He said, "Well anyway, it was nice to meet you."

With that, he and Lamar got back into his white automobile. "Damn nigga you see the ass n that dime? I remember the old school, dog. Remember when white gite girls didn't have no booty?" Franklin laughed, "Man the things you talk about and think about, dude..I swear..."

Lamar said, "I'm serious, fool! They used to have lil ol pancake butts. Real talk, fam. But now it must be something they're eating or something cause now they giving sisters some competition. You're gonna see more niggas going out like BJ Smith and shit but hopefully they don't go cutting them up and shit along with a waiter."

Franklin heckled, "Oh yeah? Sisters? Thought you was Apache, L, what happened to that?" He said, "Ay nigga I am a motherfucking Apache. And don't go saying no motherfucking shit about how Indian girls don't got ass for days. They do! They aint flat like the stereotype say. Only girls I ever knew to be flat was maybe Asian bitches and white girls. Only now I swear they got donk too! Maybe it's cause they're the most willing to take it up the booty."

As they drove back to Strawberry, Franklin asked, "What? First of all, motherfucker, anal sex with a female has nothing to do with her having junk in the trunk. Second, who told you they were the most willing to let you up in there?" Lamar said, "Shiit you know what it is, hombolio! They're too easy. Pay em one compliment and they spread they're legs. And besides I do online research about bi sexual honeys in San Andreas and shit and it said that while girls that are bi sexual are more likely to be open to back door a man but of all the flavors of female in that regards, vanilla is meant to be the freakiest."

Franklin shook his head. "Hey I don't know, homie. Sounds like a broad generalization to me. You can't pay mind to shit like that. I mean, mabe it might be true but...it aint like only one kinda girl is bootyliscious either. Maybe just our women was the ones who hid it the least." Lamar laughed slapping hands with him as they drove.

"Yeah!" He said, "I'm feeling that, like all them other bitches had ass too but they don't strut what they got like a chocolate mama. Not as many of them came out the proverbial big booty closet yet. You know me baby I love all shades of pussy. I love that nappy dugout. Speaking of pussy, tell me you're trying too push up on that blonde girl, blood! She's finer than a motherfucker and I think she was feeling you, Frank! I swear, she had body language like a school girl in heat."

Franklin said, "Hey man you know I aint ready for all that right now. I mean I got my bitches down at the Vanilla Unicorn. They keep me happy enough," Lamar sighed "Well at least you aint thinking about that Tanisha bitch no more. I was getting tired of hearing about it to tell you the truth. I mean she was the homie back in the day but damn I never knew why you were so sprung on her, you feel me? She aint a ten. Hell she aint even a six in my book!"

Franklin rolled his eyes. "There you go with that shit again, nigga. Why can't you ever just leave well enough alone? I told you before when we hung out, I aint fucking with that bitch no more. She was playing me so she's the past bro! How about a little faith in me if I'm supposed to be your best friend?"

Lamar sneered, "Faith has nothing to do with it. It's about you and what you'll do the first time she shows you any attention. That's your problem, Franklin, you're sprung and you have no self control. And as much as it pains me to say it, dog, you're making men in general look like we got no control. Making it look like we're all just every woman's puppy dog. Is that what you want to be, fool? Following Tanisha around like a stray mutt? You're better than that!"

Suddenly his phone rang indicating he got a text. "What the fuck now?" He looked at it and said, "Aw hell no! No the fuck she didn't! Hold up, right quick, L I gotta make a call,"

It was Tanisha and she had texted him saying her wedding was going to be in a week. She said she wanted him to be there and that he hoped they could be just friends. "Nigga you're calling her? Damn, man! That's what I'm saying. You're pussy whipped!" Franklin was tired of his friend talking shit so he decided to put it on speaker. "What the fuck is this, Tanisha? How are you gonna text me some shit like this? After everything you put me through?"

She snapped, "Hold the fuck up, Negro I know you didn't just call me on my hone just to yell at me! Here I was thinking I was doing the right thing to do, the Christian thing to do, by inviting you. If you were really my friend, you'd be happy for me. I would do the same for you if this was you walking down that aisle. When are you going to grow up?!"

Franklin scoffed. "Who the fuck do you take me for? First off it's one thing you send me all these emails about how you're moving on with your life and how we're through. You just remember one thing, Tanisha we were friends before we were ever dating and you started it with the little back and forth letters in class Freshman year, remember? You started dating me cause you thought I could protect you from that fool on the block with the one eye. Now you talk about we're done but you still want to be friends?"

She said, "That would be the mature thing to do, wouldn't it?" He said, "If mature means spineless then I guess so but I'm not some dog that just had his nuts clipped, okay? I'm a man and I have dignity. You did spur me to go help Lamar when the Ballas kidnapped him but that's all you did. At first I thought I was doing it to make you happy but then I realized Lamar maybe an idiot but he's a loyal idiot. He's more loyal than you! And you had the nerve to act like I was selling out saying about how I moved out the hood, got a big house and new cars? Trying to make it look like I'm too good for the hood but you're always the one who was trying to escape long before me or him ever even thought of it!"

Tanisha scoffed, "You know what, nigga? Whatever you say, boo boo. Here i was thinking we could put the past behind us and leave it in the past and move on but here you are acting like a child. You're never going to grow up. I'll pray for you, Franklin. I really will."

Franklin snapped and he gritted his teeth, "Listen up BITCH. I don't need you or your fucking prayers and you and that Uncle Tom ass nigga you're engaged to can both raise the fuck up outta my life. I may have moved on up to North side of L.S. but I still drop in on the hood to see how things are. When have you ever done that, Miss High-And-Mighty? Don't bring your ass around the hood. Ever again. You too good for me you too good for us? Fine. Later for you."

She started to protest but he hung up the phone. With that he angrily turned his phone off so that it wouldn't ring if she called him back. "Damn! That was Ham, nigga! I underestimated you Frank! You still got balls, dog! That's what's up. Hey forget about that bitch, aight? You and me, we'll hit the titty bar tonight. We can drop by the one in the hood, or we can mob to some of the other ones that opened up around the city. New locations means new bitches, g!"

Franklin was upset but he said, "You know what, Lamar? I'm down. Fuck it. CGF rolling on the town tonight."

Lamar grinned, "My nigga! I knew you still was a man somewhere down there. Oh shit hear your boy one time though. On the money making tip, so you know how you found out those feds jacked your cut right? Well I got a way we can make paper and get more respect on the streets. Everybody knows when it comes to Families vs Ballas this is the hometown of all that beef but they say we got mopre people repping Families on the east coast than out west where it started. Niggas repping that purple been pushing us around for too long. They try taking our hoods out from under us."

Franklin said, "I don't know, g. I'll have to think about that. If it's anything like that thing with kidnapping D then that's a negative that whole thing was nothing but a waste of time and that mark Stretch almost got us clapped in the process."

Lamar told him, "No it's not even like that. I got a homie off on Grove Street. Remember how I told you Grove was Family hoods before? We got a nigga from out that way that's been laying low for a while but he was talking about taking it back from the Lobsters on some real gangsta shit. I mean why not, brah? It aint like you, me and crazy dude didn't end up fading half the lobsters in the hood anyway right?"

Franklin thought about it. "Shit, I don't know, brother. I mean you know I'm trying to lay low and make paper, right but what happened to that shit you were saying about starting our own set? Forum Gangstas, nigga? Cause the OG's aint showing us no love?"

Lamar added, "That's right you just reminded me,speaking of which you know how there's been other Family hoods around the city but they aint been as active as they were before right? Well I just hollered at one of the OG's from the Strawberry Avenue Groves. Them niggas went hard as a motherfucker against the Ball Sacks back in the 90's. Real original G shit. If you can drop by my crib tomorrow we can shoot through and introduce him you feel me? This guy aint just Families but he's one of the first rappers to rep our shit you know? Cause niggas in the 90's like OG Loc was all about Balling. Now you got niggas claiming to rep our side in the game but they aint as hard as the homie Red Rum."

Franklin laughed. "Red Rum? Nigga what kind of street name is that? And why cal himsef a Grove if he aint from that original hood?"

Lamar scolded, "Murder spelled backwards you dummy! You know rappers are always pulling that kind of play on words! But you can't be disrespecting like that when we get there cause remember we might be from Chamberlain Hills and we maybe next to Strawberry but we aint from Strawberry so he's the man we'll need to know he gets us a pass in his hood. He's also down with us though too. His set was one of the first outside Davis to even claim Grove to answer your question cause remember the Families was a coalition of gangs that banded together to fight the Ballas cause back in the 70's Ballas was bullies they still are! But since Grove was an original hood, that's still what a lot of Families still claim."

He had a can of E Cola in the car which he cracked open. Franklin shot him a look but he said, "Hold up, fool I aint gonna spill it! Chill!" He took a sip of the soda and then said, "Anyways, nowadays niggas act like Families and Groves aint the same ting cause other sets that sprouted up went by their own hood name for Families since that was the unifying banner but it still is the same to me, dog. Only difference in it really is that the Families who don't claim to be Grove wear the bright green and Groves wear dark green. But see part of why Rum gets my respect is he from a clique that doesn't separate the two. But originally he told me his set was started cause back in the day some of the g's from Davis weren't showing enough love to the homies in Strawberry so they went by Grove and by Family but they were in their own hood. Had their own OG's from there."

Franklin wasn't sure. "I don't know, dude. I mean it seems like a waste of time doesn't it? This gang bang shit. You said yourself when we did that deal on Grove that you hoped to one day be where you think a lot of the OG's from Grove that disappeared went to. You said, living in the suburbs coaching football, CEO correct me if I'm wrong but that was you who said that was going to be us one day right?"

He did not immediately answer so he repeated himself. "Right? I mean I'm already halfway there I got a nice crib up there in the hills cause of that guy Lester. That was the lick right there! But it seems like while you always wanna criticize me for wanting out of Chamberlain Hills, I'm on my way. Why don't you come with? You're my homie, L you could even stay up in that place with me. Said you wasn't doing good on the scrill so why don't you come on with me?"

Lamar said, "You know I can't do that! It's just a dream, mayne! Nothing real about it! Besides if I was to run off to the suburbs with you then what? The Ballas could roll through and take Chamberlain Hills! Now I know a lot of the big dogs been janky with us but that doesn't mean there aint still good homies in there. The hills is still a foot hold for our side. It aint never gonna be about Vinewood Hills for me. Chamberlain Hills will always be the only place I ever call home. Whatever, is you in or out?"

Franklin exhaled, "Ok, homie but it's just for the cheese, bro. I can't keep doing this the rest of my life. Look you know, the homie Mike he got in the movie business. Maybe I can do something like that or maybe it's a way I can get in the rap game even. Even if just as a producer. Gangs is played out, bro. I'm still from the hood but I've seen a lot of road dogs die and that doesn't sit right with me."

He added, "Only as a means to an end and it's just temporary. If it's helping you out, cool but you just remember I stuck my neck out for you on the heists and shit, getting you along as a gun men so you'll come through on that, right?"

Lamar assured him, "Fo sho my nigga! Don't trip you know boy boy got you! Families for life, blood!"

_Del Perro Freeway_

Trevor Phillips was giving Lester a ride back to East Los Santos. "Well, all things considered, I gotta say I hate to be the bearer of bad news with the money and all. Maybe Micheal will be in touch with Agent Norton and he can shed some light on this God awful catastrophe."

Trevor vented, "After all hat work, these fucking assholes think they can just bend us over and horse fuck us? Who do those cross dressing cowards think they are?! Then again, for all we know it may not be FIB. It could be Merryweather. Or maybe all of them! If I had known we were going to hit the Union Depository, go through all that effort only to lose the money due to some dip shit hacker, I would have never let you return what we stole from the heist at the Port Of L.S.! Fucking Merryweather douche bags!"

Lester said, "Well if hacking was any part of this it won't take me long to triangulate who did it and where they are. When it comes to hacking you know nobody can do it better in town than I can but it may take me a couple of days to pin point it. The best firewalls in the country are for government agencies."

They headed south toward Mission Row and then Trevor took a right headed east. "I suggested to Micheal that we deal with Dave too. He tried to have me killed after all along with Steve. He insisted that he was our best ally in the FIB. That argument only holds weight if he's keeping the feds off of us and we can spend our money in peace I'm not feeling peaceful, Lester. I feel like driving my personal helicopter to the FIB plaza and unloading a couple thousand rounds into every employee in there!"

Lester sighed. "The worst of it was supposed to be over that much is for sure. Especially after the three of you dealt with Dave, and Devin. When I saw the story on Weazel news reporting the body count at the Weston mansion, somehow I expected he'd have more men than that. I'm not saying that's a shabby operation to have as your security detail but I expected a lot more."

Trevor added, "Maybe he would still be alive if he paid us all the money he owed us and didn't try to have Franklin kill Micheal. Not to mention, being a stingy son of a bitch like he was, even though he could have afforded to buy all those Merryweather goons for the rest of his life, he probably underpaid the company. He owns stock for them right? You would THINK he'd look after his men better. That wasn't about the money though. That was for fun!"

He put the radio to Channel X. The song Save Yourself by Stabbing Westward played. Trevor exhaled, "The thing is, not only has Dave not been able to guarantee that we wouldn't have any further trouble after taking everybody out and the Union Depository, we can pretty much assume, that Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free-Card Micheal is always reminding us about is as of now null and void so for all we know, the FIB could be raiding all of my business out in Sandy Shores. Maybe they wire tap Ron's phone. MAYBE, I have to cut his head off and put it on a stop sign as an example to what happens to those who fuck me!"

Lester nervously chuckled. "Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves, Trevor. Ron is your friend and you're talking about things that haven't even happened yet. You're right about one thing. It is a problem that Dave Norton may not be as useful to us as we thought but you all still have me if that counts for anything and while I can't get you the kind of immunity he can, I can still hack into police data bases to buy you some time. That may only be temporary fixes and of course the L.S.P.D. and FIB will constantly update their servers and boot up their firewalls to keep me out. That will pose a challenge over time but I at least know they'll never be able to trace my location. I've covered my tracks too well."

Trevor warned, "Never say never," They arrived at Lester's house minutes later. There was some gang members in the house next to his. They were smoking marijuana and a few were drinking beers. What in God's name is that? Did those guys tattoo their eyelids?! Now even I am impressed by the gall of that. You got a gang problem around here, Les?"

Lester chuvckled. "That's the Mara Bunta Grande. They're the most notorious street gang in the country in case you hadn't heard. Ties to the Mexican Mafia, under the South Side banner, pretty much banning with the Vagos. Speaking of which there's a few of them across the street too. They're the mean looking individuals who don't have facial tattoos."

Trevor said, "I think I may have encountered a few of them. El Salvadorian gang right? They tried to steal from my partner Oscar out in Grape Seed. I had to put a few of them down. Really dog eat dog out there in the sticks. Much more than Los Santos. Still, Oscar said he looks out for the Vagos as far as weapons supplies even though he's a free agent. You telling me Vagos and Mara Bunta are allied with each other?"

Lester nodded. "Like I said, all run by the Mexican Mafia. Vagos are the oldest gang in San Andreas though. Even older than the Angels Of Death. They had some interesting individuals in this area. They still do. Real go getters and opportunists. There was a major hitter for M.B.G. but I think he went away to prison. If they're ever not wearing colors or tattoos another way they're unique is the machetes a lot of them keep. They feel it's more close and personal than a gun."

Trevor whistled. "Maniacs after my own heart! What made you move out here, anyway? You okay here in the ghetto by yourself? With your condition and all?" Lester chuckled. "I know it seems a strange place for a middle aged white guy to be but it's humble and it's the last place the cops would expect a computer hacker to live. Besides, they stay out of y business I say out of theirs. On occasion, they request my services too. I've gotten the police off some of their boys here and there. For a reasonable price of course."

Trevor let him out and said, "If you say so! You take care now. And be in touch as soon as possible. I want my money, Lester. I've spent years building up for this. With the kind of cash we had I could have fortified my empire and taken over. I could have been what that little cock sucker Devin Weston thought he was."

As he pulled off a member of the Mara Bunta's a man wearing a blue football jersey with the number 13 on it approached. He was bald and had a pair of sunglasses on and khaki shorts with high socks. The Central American gangster beckoned, "Orale, gabacho. What are you doing in the varrio, home! Only three kinds of gringos ever come here. Narcos, base heads, and Lester Crest. Since he earns his keep around here he gets a pass. So what does that make you, fool?"

Trevor kept his hand on the Combat Pistol on the side of his seat. He had killed a few of them out in Blaine County and Sandy Shores when doing runs for Oscar Guzman. He thought to himself, _Don't ask me where I'm from and don't say anything about Canada or so help me..._He was remembering some of the drug and rage fueled ambushes he'd gotten into around Southern San Andreas.

"Only speak pequito espanol," He told the guy. The guy said, "Mira you don't look like any puerco I've ever seen. Pretty sure even an undercover narco wouldn't tattoo that loco shit on his neck. So what's it going to be? You buying?"

Trevor relaxed a little. "Well that depends. How good is your ice around here?" The guy asked, "Que?" He said, "Ice. You know what I'm saying, amigo. My cup isn't empty but I need my 24/7 cup filled to the brim..with ICE! In order for me to really...unwind!"

The guy chuckled. "Well we can help you with that. How much do you need?"

About twenty minutes later, Trevor was in the can at the Vanilla Unicorn. He told one of the bouncers, a man who was half African American and half Samoan, "Listen, I'm gonna need the shitter to myself for a little...unwinding. There's no place better for a business man to contemplate his ventures in free market enterprise then when nature calls so keep the male customers out of there, comprende?"

The bodyguard, aid,. "Are you sure, man? The majority of our customers are guys, man. Aint that many ladies in here aside from the girls that is but..." Trevor demanded, "Are you questioning your employer, bub?"

The guy shook his head. "No Mr. Phillips, I was just saying...actually you know what? If you need some time to yourself there's also a private bathroom in Leon's old office. I can make sure nobody, even the girls come back there if that's what you want?" Trevor sniffed. "Atta boy. Now then, if you'll excuse me, I'll be in the back...lighting up some ideas."

_Mission Row_

_7:35 AM_

His cell phone ran. This woke Joaquin up. He sat up off the hard bench and answered groggily. "Hello...?"

It was Joker. "Q vo, ese! Time to wake up! Hey listen you mind dropping by mi canton in a little bit? We have some business to discuss. A way for you to get back to earning again, even!" Joaquin asked, "What kind of business?" Joker coughed. "South Side Vago business. You in? Doing a favor for some friends."

Joaquin had slept outside because apartments were expensive and he didn't want to be in debt to anyone but he was willing to start making enough feria to work his way up. He just never dreamed he'd ever have to start over again from scratch. That was a real pain in the ass. He got up from the bench. He found a red Felon. busting the window out, moving the glass off the seat. He hot wired it and the alarm went off. A homeless man, an older African American with a gray beard, wearing a greenish brown overcoat and camouflage pants pushing a shopping cart spotted this but he looked the other way, lighting a cigarette and said, "Not my business and not my problem. Shouldn't be parking a car like that around here anyway."

Finally Joaquin got the alarm to stop. The older man looked in his direction saying, "You have yourself some good rest tonight son!" He didn't know what the old fart meant by that. It wasn't that he didn't respect Elders. He knew this guy was an Elder. He just wasn't one of HIS Elders. Then it dawned upon him what he meant. He figured if nothing else he could sleep in the car. While the thought had not actually occurred to him, he decided it might be a good idea if he could find a secluded area to sleep in tonight.

He headed back to the hood. He put the radio on East Los FM. The song California by Lil Rob played. He nodded to the beat as Rob started rapping. Lil Rob was one of his favorite rappers. This was one of his favorite stations too. He remembered how badly he missed music while he'd been away. For a while, despite Los Santos being majority Chicano and Central American as they were 50% of the city's population outnumbering every other group, they had only recently got East Los FM. A station for La Raza.

A station that played songs from other countries to the south as well as Chicano rap usually cholo rolas. He turned out of Legion Square to head to the East Side. He stopped off at a red light. He could see in the opposite lane across from him going the other way, a car had stopped too. It was a black car and a white male was driving it. Inside was a blonde girl in the back looking to be either in her late teens or early twenties. There was a young man of similar heritage but with reddish hair. He was on the heavier side.

The woman in the front was a brunette. Joaquin had always been good at reading people and usually his assumptions were right. Something about her read Ice Queen. Joaquin noticed they seemed to be arguing. "Tracey, look I'm happy you're going off to college. 'm just saying you've made some mistakes that we've all seen. I hope you're going there to learn and not do drugs, drink and have orgies. If any guys try and get you in the porno industry I swear to God I'll kill them."

Joaquin smirked at this. "h my god, dad you're such a creeper! Why can't you trust me more to make my own decisions? Besides I'm in college now so if I do get grades shouldn't I get to have fun when I'm on vacation? Come on, dad! I've never been to the Bahamas or Vice City. I want to go!"

The young boy said, "Dad, you know she's just going to get in a gang bang by a bunch of guys. She's a slut. That's what she does. I'm at least being realistic in just trying to get a job. If you expect straight A's from a bimbo you're going to be disappointed."

She snarled, "Ugh! Jimmy you're such a douche! You're just mad because you're still a fucking fat and lazy virgin who never stops playing video games long enough to have a social life! At least I've moved out and got a dorm!" Jimmy retorted, "Yeah you live in a tiny shit hole apartment and you can't afford breakfast so you come home and eat for free every morning."

This made him snicker. His mom snapped, "Enough! I'm tired of you two fighting every day! You're worse than me and your father at our worst! I swear I don't know what is wrong with you two. Maybe it was moving out here. Maybe we shouldn't have left North Yankton. The husband said, "Who! Let's not go jumping to any conclusions like that! We did what we had to in order to get out of that snowy hell hole."

Joaquin was relieved then the light turned green. "Chingado! Is this what I was missing out on without having a family? I must not have been missing anything," He then thought to himself, _Or I don't know what I was missing..._

Joaquin drove out of there still listening to Lil Rob rap. "I've got to do it like the locos do don't raise your ride hop your ride like you're supposed to do!" He finally pulled up to the hood and got out approaching Lefty's flat where Joker was also. "que onda, ese? So what's the business?" He slapped hands and hugged Joker and Lefty. Rosa hugged him as well and she politely kissed him on the cheek. He wondered if there was more to that than the surface. In some European and middle eastern traditions friends kissed each other on the cheek but he was neither of those things.

Joker beckoned to a Vago gang member. "You remember this vato here? He's got a little problem he had come up some time that he hasn't been able to deal with yet."

Joaquin remembered him. Oso was a brown skinned stocky man with a shaved head and a cholo style mustache and goatee. He wore a blue and black and white checkered plaid button up. He had on gray khaki pants. "Q vo, Culebra? Whats new homie I'm glad to see you made it out of the pinta in one piece! I just got out of there myself."

Joaquin slapped hands with him and they bumped shoulder. He grinned saying, "What's up, Oso? You know I always have South Side carnalismo."

Joker lit a Redwood cigarette. "So listen up kiddo. Osa is on house arrest. As you can see he has a bracelet on. he can't go within a hundred yards from his lat without permission from his parole officer. He's got a little problem that needs dealing with but the problem is he can't go out and deal with it like he wants to."

Joaquin looked at him. "What's the problem hombre?" Oso told him, "My primo got killed, man. He grew up on the West Side in Vespucci Beach but he was representing big time for the Vespucci Trece cliqua for Vagos. They hammered the Shoreline Ballas out there. Made them nothing but a memory of the 90's. That is until some fucking niggers came into the neighborhood and killed him for his bagger and ran him over to get it."

The husky gang member was angry and wished he could be out there dealing with it also spoke up, "They were trying to repossess a bike. They did it for this Armenian car dealer. Simeon Yetarian. He could have just had the two Tranny's repossess the bike without killing him but instead they made a mess out there. We need him taken out and since you're back in town looking to earn we figure you're the guy to do it."

Joaquin was confused. "You want me to shoot the guy that had the bikes repossessed and not the guys that did the deed? What kind of message is that going to send? I thought we're more serious than that. Both the puppets and the puppet master should be thrown in the trash heap."

Joker told him, "You will. That is, we will. We just need to find out from him who they are first and then we'll go after them. We need you to go after them and take them out once we know exactly who they are. A couple of vatos from that side of town were supposedly leaving just as they were coming in. The shooting went down after the brothers already left. There's a lot of Tranny cliquas in this town so we need to figure out which one in particular hit the Vespucci Beach varrio."

Joaquin sighed. "Okay. I'm down for whatever needs to be done. You sure this Simeon guy deserves a bullet? I don't mind killing a guy but I just want to make sure he deserves it," Joker cackled athat and blew smoke. "Mira, amigo. You're home now, entiendes? This aint the Corps. You don't have to worry about whether or not you did the right thing or not. This is the streets. You do what you have to in order to survive."

Rosa added, "If this makes you feel any better about it, this Simeon guy is notorious for suckering people into buying cars they know they can't afford. There was a shop out in Davis that sold people with lower income cars that they could afford that was within their means but he had those cars blown up. He's one of the worst kind of fork tongued motherfuckers out there."

Joaquin checked his cuete. He was given a fresh magazine by Joker. He gave him two more. "Lefty is going with you, just to see to it you get the job done, okay? Joaquin nodded. Lefty led him across the street. There was a blue Savannah parked there. "Damn homie! Firme ranfla! I wish I had one of these babies. That's a sexy fucking ride, home!"

Jose chuckled. "Yeah she's my pride and joy. No scratches or dirt on her. Nada. You want to drive? You're more than welcome to if you can keep her in one piece."

Joaquin assured him he could. He was tossed the keys. They began to drive out to the dealership. The radio was still on East Los FM from the last time Lefty had been on it. The song Sur Side Party by Brown Side played. "You sure it's a good idea to use your own ride to go do a 187, bro?"

Jose assured Joaquin, "It's nothing ese. We'll just get it resprayed once we lost the puercos. Even if I don't like the color they give me I can just take it on by Los Santos Customs after the heat dies down and we'll call it even. They'll even throw in some new plates."

Joaquin said, "So why are you rolling along, homie? Just to make sure I do my job? Where's the trust, hermano?" Lefty told him, "It's nothing like that, Joaquin. It's just a precaution. Besides I think that puto has been paying protection to some people lately so there's a chance whoever he paid will still be there. Which makes it at least a two man job. I got my shotgun in the back seat. Anyway his dead body is just supposed to be a warning t whichever Family set thought it would be wise to rain in on Vagos territory which could be any of them. Maybe even all of the."

Joaquin asked him, "Why would he be paying protection? Protection from what?" Lefty grinned. "Oh yeah that's right. You just got out of the slammer. Well, a few months ago, some gringo drove a Patriot Through the window of that place and fucked the ride up too. I guess he was one guy Simeon shouldn't have tried to steal shit from. I guess he held one of Simeon's drivers and gun point and made him drive through it. Cost the poor vato his job. Then again for all we know that could have been the same guy that killed Esteban."

Joaquin remembered Esteban and he had always known Oso but he forgot they were cousins. "Shit I forgot about him! They killed him? That's not right, carnal. Anyway from the looks of what we're about to do now, the bigger mistake he made was repossessing the wrong bike and running down the wrong man. That's going to cost him more than some idiota driving a vehicle through his business. It's probably smarter that we're doing it this way too. That way even though it's a Vagos retaliation hit, it can't be tied back to them."

Since Marabunta, though they had many rivals all over the city, had once tried to stand on their own as a gang among a city of gangsters though they'd fought the original Vagos from the 80's to 1992, once they'd been taken under the wing of the Mexican Mafia, Mara Bunta Grande was officially a sub gang with the Southside Vagos umbrella. Only this sub set had grown faster and larger than any other street gang. Even regular plain old Vagos.

So the problems of the Vagos Locos, a local neighborhood cliqua with a lot of respect, that like the Mara Bunta of East Los, was from Murrietta Heights, was not the problem of Mara Bunta too. The Aztecas were isolated as far as getting along with other brown gangs but at the end of the day when they went to prison they too were SouthSiders but a lot of younger members had forgotten that shit. Especially the likes of King G when he had tried to kill Joaquin and his homies just the other day.

Sure some Aztecas were real but a lot of them were a bunch of puto chavalas. Nothing like the originals who had started their gang off. Nothing like the Aztecas from twenty or so years ago either. Joaquin nodded at what Lefty told him. "That's good. Cause even if another Vago from their cliqua did it and not ours the puercos would have enough reason to try and blame it all on Oso."

All though Mara Bunta was allied with the Vagos, the police expected that the individual cliques would deal with things on their own by their own so if there was to be a retaliation hit on Simeon and the Families on behalf of Esteban Jimenez being killed, they would not expect a large varrio with a lot of male and female members would rely on another South Side gang to deal with what was their problem. It seemed fool proof enough. Culebra just hoped it would not backfire on them.

Lefty agreed. "Yeah, that's true. The only reason us doing it will leave it a little bit of a mystery is because we're not the same cliqua even if we share the same barrio but also this Armenian has fucked over a lot of people. I know he aint a gang banger, Snake, but you can't deny we're doing this city a huge favor by putting him under."

As they began to reach downtown, cutting through the Textile area, Joaquin asked, "Who do you think this guy is paying protection too? There's a lot of gangs in L.S. to pick from," Lefty thought about it. "My guess? Families. I mean if he already had two of those tintos working for him he probably is paying them protection. Figures they're a big enough gang on a national scale. It just so happens compared to Vagos, Mara Bunta, Aztecas and the Ball Sacks, the Tranny's are small in this city. Even if this was where they started out first."

Finally, they pulled up to the dealership. They decided to go in through the back. Lefty handed him a dark blue bandanna to put over his face. "Orale, loco. Its time to to put an Armenian charlatan out of business."

They went in through the back door but they took cover around the side of the wall to the entrance. "I count five men aside from Simeon," Lefty whispered as he finished tying the bandanna. He pumped his 12 gauge ready for action. Culebra pulled the slide back and said, "Wait a second, bro. Le's see what they're talking about. I think those fools are Armenian too."

There was a man in a brown leather jacket, black chinos, and a red shirt with a thick Armenian accent talking to the bald headed car dealer. "I sincerely hope you and your men know what you are doing. I could have just as easily gone over to the Aztecas for protection as they have turf close to downtown. Or the Family's since I know them better. Are you sure you need this kind of money just to keep any more maniacs from crashing into my shop?"

The man had a thick Armenian accent. "I assure you my friend, that would not be a good idea. We are you fellow countrymen. The Aztecas have more enemies than you do. They are scum. As for your black friends, since you fired them, I am not so sure they would try to help you now. We are your only option, my friend. We may not be as big time as these other groups in the city but we look after our own countrymen."

Simeon said, "Yes, I was going to say that. You only have territory in La Puerta and parts of North Vinewood. I am afraid you are not as big as you used to be in the 80's and the 90's. Can you always have a man posted around the business to make sure?"

The man put an arm around Simeon. "My friend, not only will we make sure nobody else tries to unfairly persecute you and your business establishment but we will find the barbarian who beat you up and crashed a vehicle through your window. What would you like me to do? You want I should kill him? Or bring him to you so that you can?"

Simeon held his hands up. "Please, gentlemen I am a business owner, not a gang member. I do not want this to come back on me."

These men were part of the Armenian Mafia. Sometimes also known as Armenian Pride. They were a relatively new gang in Los Santos and in fact were even newer than Mara Bunta was. In fact supposedly, they had started because Mara Bunta and other South Side gangs had attacked them before. The Armenian Pride gang formed to protect themselves.

Later on, the conflict between Mexican and Central American gangs and Armenians simmered down and the Armenians actually got in on the South Side alliance despite not being of the same culture. They had contemplated siding with the Black Guerilla Army in the prisons but in reality they had power only to control their own people and it was the Mexican Mob who had all the power in the joints especially on the west coast.

Now, it seemed that they were doing protection rackets. And since Joker was a member of La Onda unbeknownst to the parole board, he was their representative on the streets. This meant that all though the Armenians paid taxes to them, they were trying to weasel out of this one, getting a side action going on and not cutting in Onda. There was only one way to make this right. Joaquin could see one of the guys being handed a briefcase full of money. He closed it up and started to walk out. "You will not be sorry, old friend. Remember that your brother in law is one of us. He will always see to it you're taken care of."

They emerged coming into the depot. Lefty fired the shotgun, hitting two members with one blast. The blast hit one of the, a guy dressed in cholo style clothing. This was the funny thing to him about this gang. They often imitated Chicano gangs in attire. This guy was wearing a pressed white shirt, baggy khakis, a navy blue ski cap and a hair net. This was the typical dress of the younger members while the more seasoned guys would be dressed up fancier like a Mafioso.

The shotgun blast hit him in the sternum and blood sprayed from the wounds. Some of the pellets also caught him in the face and blew off the left side of it leaving the destroyed tattered flesh hanging off the side. It gave off a stench of rotten meat as he collapsed to the ground. The other one , a man with slicked back gelled up hair and a mustache and a small beard, who had been hit wore a silk striped T shirt pressed black pants, was hit in the left arm by several pellets. He cried out in pain collapsing. The other three Armenians, plus Simeon took cover.

The man in the red shirt got his own pistol out and returned fire at them. They took cover behind one of Simeon's cars being displayed in the showroom, a yellow Beejay XL. As the rounds hit the vehicle, Simeon yelled, "No! You idiots what are you doing?! I have just gotten this thing repaired! This is the same vehicle I was telling you about when when..."

The AP thug shouted, "It's just a vehicle, shut the fuck up! I think these two are here to go after you. When the coast is clear you had better get out of here. You have pissed off more people in this town than you give yourself credit for!" Lefty fired again and hit the guy with the cholo clothes in the groin and abdomen. "You can't fake it to make it, homie!" The blast killed the guy and his intestines were revealed as a result of the blast tearing through his stomach and clothes. One other Armenian, a guy wearing a gold sports jacket, fancy beige pants and a gold chain, a man in his mid thirties an American accent yelled, "These fucking wetbacks are Mara Bunta!"

Lefty chuckled, "I should have known there'd be Armenians! I thought I smelled just a little too much cheap cologne!" Joaquin fired from cover and hit the guy who had made the racial remark at them with three rounds, two in the stomach and one in the left knee cap. He collapsed crying out but was still firing all though he was firing shots all over the place and not coming close to hitting them. "You should have kicked it up the ladder, puto! That's how it works! We have to do it so do you if you want friends on the inside!"

Joaquin yelled as he fired and came out from cover to draw a bead on the man Lefty had wounded in the arm. He fired three shots and hit him twice in the right side of the chest and once in the heart. The man fell hitting his head on the floor. The guy who was clearly in charge shouted, "Fucking Hispanics! You are bleeding us dry!"

Lefty took out the goons aside from the head goon, firing a shotgun blast to the head. This blew his head into three separate bloodied chunks which painted the floor as they hit the ground. Joaquin yelled, "We're not from Spain, pendejo!" Lefty yelled, "You're breaking mi Corazon you poor Armenians! Must be so hard to make a living with all those luxury cars, fancy clothes and your fancy apartments in Vinewood!"

The man fired angrily this time and shouted, "I deserve to spend what I earned! I do not plan to go to prison! Maybe you two are butt buddies in a cell but I am a man who loves the bearded clam!"

Joaquin hit him with blind fire twice in the left side near the rib cage. He screamed but did not go down. Joaquin reloaded in cover and Lefty fired another blast from the shotgun and sent the thug into the wall. The man slid down on his own blood stain as the shotgun blast opened his chest cavity.

Simeon got into the Beejay and took off. Joaquin and Lefty got back into the Savannah. "Vamos, Culebra! That little cheat is getting away!" He floored it and began to chase the Armenian car dealer up the street. Lefty had a Beretta as a sidearm. He began firing at the vehicle from the back. "Pull over, you bald boboso! You're not going anywhere!"

The man was driving with one hand and screaming into a cell phone with the other hand. "Franklin! For God's sake my boy don't hang up! There are some hoodlums after me! Yes, I know I fired you enough about that! That is old news! I need your help! I am being chased through the Textile District by a couple of gang banging thugs! No I cannot call cops...have you forgotten what kind of business I run there? The last thing I need is IRS up my ass! For the love of God, don't you hear the shots they are trying to kill me!"

Lefty fired at his head and almost got him but he ducked down in the seat and he pulled a hard left at the intersection. The man turned and shouted back, "You are in big trouble now you racists! My Friend Franklin is coming to deal with you! He is real gangster unlike you pussies! Trying to shake down legitimate business owner you should be ashamed!"

He swerved, barely missing a woman in a mini van. As they pursued him, Joaquin got his handgun ready and began firing out the window with his left hand. Unlike his homie, while he could shoot with one hand as well as two, he was right handed. Several missed but he did manage to get a shot off on the back left tire. The car skidded out on control and Simeon crashed into a back alley hitting a dumpster.

He got out, his head with blood running down the side of his head from the crash. Joaquin got up to to him and pointed his handgun at him. The man spat blood from his mouth. "So this is how you are going to kill me? Typical gang banger! Not even giving me a fighting chance!"

Joaquin handed his gun to Lefty and said, "I'll fight this dick head. Keep a trucha for the black and white,, ese. If you hear sirens we're going. If he tried to get away shoot him."

Simeon threw a blow hitting Joaquin in the head. "Bastard!" He yelled. He swung again but Joaquin managed to partially block it all though part of the blow did hit him in the side of the face, he had softened it. He punched Simeon in his already bleeding lip with a hard left followed by a right across the nose punching him at a left ward angle. The Armenian swung at him again but Joaquin ducked this time catching his arm and he karate chopped his arm and drove an elbow into his harm.

He jabbed him with his elbow in the chest and gave him a punch in the same place as well as a left and right combo jab to the abdomen. Simeon hit Joaquin in the side and once in the face. Joaquin grabbed his arm and flung him up against the XL. He drop kicked him in the stomach and followed up with a right blow to the side of the face and then an uppercut. He hit his head on the side mirror. Simeon growled but did not get up. "Why do you do this to me? I have done nothing to you!"

Joaquin snarled, "You remember a guy named Esteban Jimenez, motherfucker?" The man said, "Yes he bought a motorcycle from me a few months back! He did not pay up. One of my employees was meant to repossess it and bring it back to me but he stole it for himself. I had to fire him. Why do you ask me this?"

Joaquin took the cuete back and said, "Because you got him killed. Some puto shot and ran him over in a car. Then took his bike and left him there in the street. Esteban's cousin sends his regards," The man seemed to perk up. "You mean Miguel? He is Vagos yes? I did not mean for Esteban to get killed! There must be some sort of mistake you see I know who did it. He is tall African American with funny haircut. He has another tall friend but he is taller...very tall and skinny. He..."

Joaquin pointed the gun at Simeon's face. "Can't have this traced back to Oso, homes. Shouldn't have said his name."

Joaquin pulled the trigger and the shot rang out hitting the man between the eyes, decorating his brains all over the paint job of the Beejay XL. They got into the low rider and Joaquin sped off as they could now hear sirens. They took off headed down Legion Square. They saw two cop cars speeding by lights blaring. They decided to head to the nearest Pay N Spray. An APB came out on Lefty's police scanner. "_We have reports on a 187 on the corner of San Andreas Avenue. Any units in the area to respond to shots fired at the Premium Deluxe Motorship ?"_

As they drove the police scanner said_, "All units be advised, suspects in the Deluxe Motorship shooting are described as two Latino males, one about six foot two wearing a blue bandanna, a white wife beater and black jeans and a Royal blue bandanna over his face, 200 lbs, the other is five foot eleven and 185 lbs, wearing blue jeans, a white T shirt, a black and white checkered shirt and a navy blue bandanna, and unspecified tattoos. Suspect last seen fleeting the scene headed south in a light blue 64 Savannah."_

Joaquin took a U turn and drove down an alley and headed west instead. They listned to the police scanner to find out where each patrol car would be. "Hey, let's listen to make sure they aren't onto us, homie but let's listen to some rolas keep the radio on low, eh."

The song Vato by Chino Grande played. Joaquin liked this song. It was a response to Snoop Dogg's song of the same name featuring B Real from Cypress Hill. In the song Chino Grande was insulting both of them because he had felt that Snoop Dogg's rap had been disrespectful toward Mexicans and all La Raza in general. In the song Snoop Dogg had said Vatos were his enemy. It was in reference to the black on brown gang warfare as well as tensions between non affiliates but rap was supposed to leave bigotry out of it but since Snoop had went there, Chino did too.

He even redid the same hook and beat they had in the song. In the part where it said "Vato you won't believe what I saw" Chino entered his voice saying "Shut the fuck up before I sock you in the jaw."

Joaquin liked that unlike a lot of other brown rappers, despite having grown up listening to NWA and Banging On Wax, Chiono Grande was no ass kisser. As they drove down an alley they heard sirens racing by. "Fucking Jura...can't they ever keep their puerco noses out of our business?" Lefty complained as Joaquin took them down an alley off of Little Seoul.

Joaquin got them to a Los Santos Customs in good time and as they got ready to pay for their new paint job, Joaquin said, "Si mon. Where were the chotas when those criminals from BAWSAQ were getting bailed out? They should have been arresting them."

After a while the bomba was resprayed and they were on their way back to the hood. Joaquin wondered, "Hey homes, you think we should have really killed that guy though? I mean yeah I know he was a major con artist and probably a lot of people thought he was an asshole but is that reason enough to put him in the ground?"

Lefty scoffed, "Fuck that, Culebra. He got Esteban killed, remember? You went to high school with that vato, remember? You guys hung out together. That was our homeboy. That was Oso's hermano. He's on house arrest for two more weeks. The thing is, even if he got off of it and had done it himself, I'm sure the cops would have him as a suspect. But see now, they know there's no way he's directly involved. At least not as far as being the trigger man."

He then added, "Besides, J, are you forgetting just how many people Simeon Yeterian ripped off on a daily basis? Sabes que, I'm not denying we've robbed people but at least we didn't act like we're doing them a favor. That punk belonged up there with those stock brokers in Liberty City he's such a pinche bottom feeder. Mira, give a man a gun he can rob a bank. Give a man a bank he can rob the world, as that saying goes."

Joaquin sighed. "Well I just think we should have waited a minute is all. I think he was going to tell us who those two errand boys were he had repossess that Bagger Esteban bought. That's who we really should have been killing."

Lefty admitted, "I'm not gonna lie that was a bit of a heated decision but we did what we had to do. If you'd waited any longer those pigs would have been all over us. That way even if we had found out we'd have been booked and we'd both be doing life. I don't know that we're entirely out of the woods yet but for now we just keep our heads down and lay low, fol. Matter of fact, take us back to my flat, home. You're staying at my place tonight."

They headed to the hood with their new paint job. It was now cherry red in color. Lefty observed, "That's gacho, puto. I don't like it. Wait a day or two and I'll need to get it touched up again. Maybe get it painted a darker shade of blue or maybe Turquoise or black or yellow. Vago and Mara Bunta shit. But rojo? That's chavala shit. anyway, fuck it. We'll get home and have a pisto or two."

_Vanilla Unicorn _

_Strawberry. _

Michael dropped into the strip club. He walked in to see Juliet, the blonde stripper by the bar. "Hi, Michael. Looking for some fun?" He shook his head. As tempting as it was, his days of cheating on Amanda were over. "Not this time sweet heart. Just looking for the boss. Trevor in?"

The blonde said, "Yeah he should be but he said he didn't want to be disturbed."

Michael said, "Listen, toots. I'm practically the co owner of this place. But unlike that dead beat prick, I actually still have to pay for my own drinks. I'm just gonna head on back there can you let t the bouncers know so they don't cause any trouble?"

She nodded. "Sure thing, hon. But you should come back and see me some other time. We had fun before..."It was true he had fucked at least three of the strippers in there when Amanda had left him for that short period of time that she had. He headed in the back but he could hear moans in the back of a woman as well as the grunts of a man. "Oh for fucks sake, Trevor..."

He walked in and barged into the office. The stripper known as Sapphire was under him, her gigantic breasts bouncing up and down as he fucked her. Trevor's pants were down but he still had that damn white T shirt on. Of course his ass was pale as the moon which was not a pretty site to see. "Come on, man, really? At work? I thought this was your new business venture!"

Trevor pulled out of the stripper. "What the fuck, Trevor...? Why'd you stop? Oh hey Micheal..." Michael remembered that he had screwed her a few times too. It took him a moment to get over that realization before he could speak again. "Mike! Haven't you ever heard of calling ahead of time? Or knocking?"

The woman scrambled to get her panties back on as well as her negligee. "Hey, don't go too far, baby doll. We're not finished here. Uncle T will be back for more later."

As Trevor got dressed he said, "So, Mikey!Thought your days of cheating on your striper wife with other strippers was over?" Michael rolled his eyes. "Again with this? I'm not here for that. Just thought I'd have a drink with an old friend. You up for that?"

Trevor downed a shot and said, "I'm having a drink right here...but what the hell. Why not? besides, I'm almost out of liquor."

_Central Los Santos Hospital _

A young African American man wearing a black puffy jacket, blue jeans, a white T shirt, and a black baseball hat on backwards titled to the left, was on his way to see his homie in the hospital. A police officer spotted him in the hall. "Assume the position, numb nuts. Have to make sure you didn't bring drugs or weapons into the hospital."

The young man, a member of the Loony Hood Davis Ballas who was named Slick said, "That's some bullshit. Hey ma, I don't consent to this search. I know my rights. You have to have my consent to frisk me, officer," He said with annoyance in his voice.

The cop did it anyway and said, "Yeah whatever, shut the fuck up. I'm just doing my job. Besides you'll probably be in one of these hospital beds by tomorrow yourself. Cause you know where gang bangers like yourselves end up? Three places. The cemetery, jail or the hospital. There's a reason those spics in East L.S. get the three dots on their face tatted. Cause they're low life gang banging pieces of shit like you. And that's where gang bangers like you get to in your case it'll be all three. You can get raped, shot and buried, how about that?"

A nurse, a white lady with brown hair and bright blue eyes was shocked by the racial slur the officer had used as wll as the borderline threat against the nineteen year old male. "You didn't just hear that, lady. Take a walk. Police business..."

She said, "I have to do my rounds..." The cop raised his voice saying, "Did I stutter? That means now!" He put his hand on his holster. Slick was released as he found nothing on him but money. "You a real hero, man. Threatening women with a gun? She's just doing her job and unlike you she actually helps people. Also why the fuck would I be going up in the hospital to snuff my own homie? Stupid ass motherfucker."

The cop snarled, "We got a couple of Family bangers in the operating room, maybe you want to go and finish them off?" Slick shook his head as he headed down the hall and said, "Well what if I was here for that? You just told me that dumb ass! Damn you cops are dumb."

The cop rolled his eyes. "She high school drop out," Slick sneered, "Nah I graduated, bitch. Find somebody else to fuck with you hillbilly bitch," As he headed down the hall the nurse said, "I'm sorry, I don't know why they insist on doing this to people in the halls. You should sue him. He didn't become a police officer to help people. He did it because he wasn't smart enough to get into a four year college."

He grinned and said, "Hey don't even sweat it. Nothing I'm not used to. Anyway can you tell me how I find room 209, please?" She directed him, "It's up the stairs one floor and then down the hall fifth door on your right."

He thanked her saying, "Hey good looking out, gorgeous," She blushed and smiled and he walked on. He got into the room and saw two of his homies in there with his homeboy Byron. "Hey what up, loc?" His big homie Brick, a larger man big enough to be a football player said, "Hey it aint nothing good, cuz. They say he'll never walk again. Paralyzed from the waist down."

Slick came in and gave Byron a hg. "Shit, g. That's all bad. What happened to you?" Brick told him, "That's what we were just hollering at him about. Some white boy came up in the hood talking about he had a message to send ad he started spraying. He faded the homie Stretch to. He flipped to or side in the pen. That was my nigga, man. He's always been trying to keep the peace between green and purple so if it means he went a little bit outside the boundaries, so be it."

Byron seemed drowsy from the pain medication but said, "We were just playing ball near the BJ Smith, bro. Just shooting the shit as usual playing some hoops. Stretch was talking about some beef he had with some CGF niggas over on the West Side. Next thing I know, this white dude...maybe in his forties...? He starts shooting talking about he had a message from Franklin...that was one of the marks Stretch was talking about..."

Bricks scoffed, "Man I know that nigga. That little pussy still live with his Auntie or mama or some shit. They live just outside the Hills over in Strawberry. I know where he stays at! That bitch has it coming too cause he's taken out a lot of the homies."

The other homie, a darker skinned older gang member short in size but dangerous, named Rocket said, "Aight, lil cuz. We're finna shoot through later check up on you see if you need anything, okay? Right now were gonna handle this little thing."

He turned to Slick. "So what's it gonna be? You ready to ride, cuddy?" They greeted Byron farewell for now. "Do this for Stretch, Byron, and Steve. If there was ever a time to show initiative, it's right now, brother. You down?"

Slick's heart began to beat as he knew this was no easy thing to do. Then again, he'd already been jumped in just the other day . If there was any point of turning back, the time to do it would have been before not after. "Fuck it, let's roll, cuz. Smash these Tranny busters. Loony Hood for life!"

They slapped dap.

_Twenty Minutes Later..._

A Cavalcade, violet in color, was driving through Strawberry. In it was Brick who drove, plus Slick and Rocket. "Yeah, that's where he lives! That punk motherfucker acts like he's all above this hood life and shit, hanging out with old ass niggas in the suburbs but he still comes around the hood with that scrub, Lamar. Want to act all superior and move on up out the hood but he still comes back."

Rocket loaded up his Uzi and said, "That bitch should have stayed gone. Now he'll be gone. You down, little nigga? Here, take this shit and just start popping till there's nothing left," He handed him a 9mm. "You see that right there? See all those shadows? Oh Auntie must be out of town. Tranny must be trying to have a little party in there with all the freaks this side of South Central. Least we know he's home."

Kelly Rowland was playing on Non Stop Pop FM. Slick thought they played that song too much. He took the 9mm and said, "You sure he's in there? Could just be his Auntie with some visitors," Brick laughed, "What is you a little bitch, Slick? Who cares who's up in there?! Thought you were down?" Slick said, "Aint nobody a bitch, nigga. I just want to make sure we're laying out the right dude. You wanna hate on me for that?"

Rocket rolled his eyes, "Slick, his Auntie's in her forties. She'd be listening to some Salt N Pepa or TLC or even Queen Latifah with her old busted ass. These middle aged bitches don't nothing about Destiny's Child!" Brick agreed. "Exactly cousin. That's what I'm saying. That's the kind of music you play for the bitches to shake their asses before you get your fuck on. Look, I know that ole itch. My mama used to do yoga with her before she passed away. She may be some middle aged ham beast trying to be half her age but she doesn't know any Kelly Rowland. That bitch is a midlife crisis yoga doing feminist. Feminists are the opposite of Kelly Rowland. The opposite of sexuality, nigga!"

They rolled the windows down and Slick said, "Aw fuck it you right. He's probably in there. Let's just hurry up."

They rolled the windows down and Rocket aimed his Uzi at the house while Slick tried to focus on the dancing laughing shapes in the window. He tried to pick out a male, somebody that cold have been Franklin. As Rocket's Uzi rattled off he panicked and squeezed rapidly too, shooting at anything and everything moving in the window.

At least five people were hit when they were done. Brick took them out of there speeding. As they sped off, Slick looked back to see an armed CGF thug getting into a car looking to give chase. He was grateful as they took off speeding down the street headed out of there. As the SUV reached Davis, he was still feeling his heart thumping in his chest.

Rocket slapped hands with him and said, "Hey you did good for a BG. I think you dropped like two of those snot ragged fags. Hey look, go get yourself something to drink or hit a titty bar or something like that," He handed him a large wad of cash. "Stick with me, you get paid," He then added with a wicked grin, "I wouldn't go by the strip club in Strawberry though right now, man. That ones to hot. They do got other joints all over Vinewood though. Catch you later."

As they left, Slick found a dark corner to go behind next to a house where nobody was home. He vomited. As he hurled, he had a rising feeling they had not hit the right person.

* * *

_Hey, so that's all for this chapter, people. Not much to say. I can break down the cholo slang for you though. If I didn't cover this last chapter, gacho is a way to say fucked up. And also as far as the description of the two while i have my convictions about terms like Latino and Hispanic for people of Native American descent which Mexicans and Central Americans usually are, the cops are ignorant and have no idea what they're talking about so of course they'd go by the standardized description even though most "Hispanic" suspects even look native so it's like how do you differentiate when actually looking for a native of the US? _

_There was even a Navajo man profiled under the Arizona "Immigration" law stopped because he "Looked illegal" I said it before I said it again. They're indigenous to this continent the true illegals came on boats from the Eastern hemisphere. I'm leaving that ambiguous so I'm not singling out but not excluding anybody really either. _

_Anyway, so what did you think of the shooting of the Ballas at Franklin's house? What do you make of the plot as far as either the IAA, Merryweather, or FIB taking their hard earned money from them? And also the Armenian Mafia is kind of based off of the real life Armenian Power gang. They pretty much have the exact gang history described. II always found Simeon annoying as hell so I said I gotta kill this guy off. I mean you can in V too but I wanted the personal satisfaction so since this is sort of based on my online character and sort of based on Paco from Blood In Blood Out if he didn't become a cop, but remained a gangster but with military experience, I wanted to have him clip Simeon. _

_Yes, there will be times where there will be conflicts with other characters, times they will work together and they may try to kill each other. Kinda like in V. Also, my pairing idea I had is Franklin and Tracey. Se I never liked Tanisha and she treated him like shit and she's a total hypocrite the way she acted toward him moving out of the hood when that's what she's doing with her doctor. Also the thing with dumb ass Lamar is he claims to be Apache all though anybody with eyes can see he's clearly not. _

_And yeah it is a stereotype that only black girls got junk in the trunk but i can say my people do and it has nothing to do with being mixed with black or something else full blooded native you either got it or you don't. But sadly some assholesdo stereotype us as FBI (Flat Butt Indians which I find offensive. I'm a Flat BROKE Indian lol ) _

_Nonetheless, two guys from the hood would talk about ass sizes and the changes over the years. _

_Later that will also be an issue Joaquin may have as he is of Nahuatl and Mojave ancestry (Slight edit in last chapter) and finds this offensive and condescending. Oh yeah, Oso is based off of Chino Grande the rapper. Just like MC Eiht as Ryder his music will be in this and he'll be a character. He's really a good rapper in fact he's one of the ew I'd want to rap with if I took my own music more seriously than a side hobby. _

_Oh as for that homeless man, Joaquin may encounter him in a stranger mission. Later that is. He might help him. Since they're actually both veterans. Oh Rocket is based on his character of the same name, leader of the Crips in Colors played by Don Cheedle. _

_As for the Loony Hood Davis Ballas they are based on the Nutty Block Compton Crips. Any how thats all for now. _

_R&R if you got the time. Hope I did good representing the canon characters and hope my OC's were interesting as well. _

_Later. _

_N.G. 13 _


	3. Lean Mean Chavala Killing Machine

_OK here chapter three under way! Now shit has already started to hit the fan hasn't it? So right onto the next one. On Franklin's I have to bring the story up a little bit earlier before that all happened Franklin's old bosses's death. Right now Frank and Lamar are out getting what they need for the heist._

_I don't have much to say for now but please read my long authors note as part of it has to do with...well all of you!_

_And if you have any questions about gangs or anything like that just private message me. _

_Anyway, here goes. Enjoy! _

* * *

_Jack Move _

_Strawberry Avenue_

_9:33 PM._

Though they'd made their choice as to what path they'd be taking for the heist, they would need a getaway car in either situation. It wouldn't have mattered. Helicopter or a armored vehicle,, either way they that would still not be enough for all the crew members so when and if there was any heat, they would need an extra car to get away Actually, they'd need to stash two just in case depending on how the deal went down. They had already jacked one car, a dark gray 2009 buffalo. The second , they were trying to decide where to get one. "Hey, homie, we should get our next ride like, I mean with enough seats and fast and shit but not so much it would stand out if we wanna shake the pigs, right?"

Franklin was listening to Radio Los Santos. The song Poetic Justice by Kendrick Lamar featuring Drake was just finishing up. Franklin liked Kendrick as he repped west coast hood niggas pretty well and he was pretty much mutual in one of the biggest gang wars and had fam on both sides. He didn't care for Drake though. That nigga was gay as fuck and too many niggas around the hood was all on his jock.

He didn't see what the big deal was. The dude was a Black Canadian Jew who pretended to be hood. In his old high school pictures he looked like some scrub he would have mugged and probably shot back in the day. He changed the radio to West Coast Classics. The song No Peace by South Central Cartel played.

Franklin agreed with that. "Yeah, bro. We aint rolling in a bucket though, dog cause that would pretty much rule out a speedy getaway. Any ideas what you want?" Lamar thought it over. "You strapped homie?" Franklin scoffed, "Come on, Lamar what kind of dumb ass question is that? You know I am! Always strapped to the teeth now that I got more people wanting me dead!"

Lamar chuckled, "Yeah now you know what it is as much as me, huh? Always talking about I got niggas wanting to clap me and you got that happening now too, don't you? I mean but like, all I ever really had was Ballas and maybe some Vagos wanting my head. You got top of the line motherfuckers wanting to pop you. FIB is one thing. Some niggas around Chamberlain Hills got the feds hitting them with federal cases or they got files on them and shit but you? Damn, homie you even went and got Merryweather on your ass! You usually gotta be Muslim to catch heat like that."

Franklin defended himself. "It wasn't like that, dog. Trevor and Michael got me mixed up with Merryweather. First time I ever did any shit like that we hit them on a lick at the port of L.S. but then the homie Lester let us know whatever it was we stole was too hot. Lot of fucking good it did us though! Anyway so you got a getaway whip we can roll in or what?"

Lamar said, "Fo sho, my nigga. You know what, Frank, just take us down Flauson ave. I saw a couple of whips we can use over there," Franklin drove that way but said, "Hey homie you sure? It's in Strawberry but that's a Ballas hood, dog. No unnecessary drama, Lamar! I',m serious. You know that shit with the Bagger we took out of Vespucci Beach didn't have to go down like that. You know that was bullshit!"

Lamar rolled his eyes, "Man is you a real nigga or is you a bitch?I swear, man, every time I think you finally grew some balls like with helping your homies cap that rich white dude, here you go and say some old ho shit like that. So what it's Ballas hood? You know Strawberry is one of the few places in this city where we outnumber the Ball Sacks so why you tripping?"

Franklin said, "First off, I aint the one that capped Weston. Actually none of us did. We all killed him though. Pushed him off a cliff over near Mount Chiliad. I didn' cap none of the FIB dudes either. You know those two white guys you saw in the hood after I saved you from the sawmill?" Lamar thought back. "Yeah I think so. They looked shady as fuck."g

Franklin pointed out, "That was the ones that had asked me to cap Trevor. That Devin Weston nigga wanted me to shoot Michael. So I took the third way. My way. Before that they had me cap this Chinese dude. Wei Cheng,"

Lamar's eyes bugged out. "Nigga, what?! That motherfucker's Triad! You scared of getting into it with them pussy as Ball Lickers but it aint no thing when it's Triads? You know those fools don't play right? Matter of fact they're bigger than any gang that exists even Mara Bunta and those fools roll deep."

Franklin assured him as they turned onto Flauson avenue, "It aint the same. They don't know who I am. I kind of played it safe. Used a rocket launcher from across the street. Hit them before they could even see me. Blew all three rides up with the old man in it," Lamar whistled. "Damn and to think I thought you were going soft on me, Frank! That's pretty fucking gangsta, dog. I wish I had me one of those things for when people try to creep on me!"

They pulled up and spotted a purple Felon. "Yeah, that motherfucker, right there, nigga. Four seaters, and it goes fast enough to shake the pigs if you got the right know how, plus it's got good handle when you gotta do some foot to toe work on the pedal."

They got out and Lamar had the slim jim. "Aight nigga, watch out for me while I get it."

Franklin had a shotgun in the back seat of his white buffalo, an AA-12, and he had his Glock 40 on deck as well. He also had his customized AK-47 in the back seat underneath some new Corkers shirts he had bought and was using to cover it up. He also had the same RPG in the trunk just in case shit really kicked off. He hoped it wouldn't here but with the Ballas you just never knew.

Franklin kept his pistol close and approached the car as the taller black man was working on getting it open. "Nigga, hurry up!" He whispered. Lamar said, "Are you watching out?" Franklin said, "Yeah but hurry up! You want the whole hood knowing we up in here?" Just then a deep voice sounded out, "Yo what the fuck? The fuck are you doing with my ride, nigga?!" Two gunshots rang out from the dark.

One hit the window Lamar was working on the next hit the door. Franklin returned fire, thankful that his pistol had a suppressor on it but it wasn't much use right now since they were already discovered by the enemy. He returned fire squeezing off five shots with one hand at the shooter, a large black male who looked like he could bench press three fifty. He wore a purple Boars jersey and stonewashed jeans pls a violet do-rag. Three of the five shots hit the guy in the stomach the other two hit the ground near him. Even as he was wounded and one the ground, he yelled, "Hey...there's some snot rag niggas trying to gank me! Fucking Graves in the hood!"

A few more Ballas came running out as well, guns blazing. Franklin took cover and returned fire. Rounds rattled off the car. "Hey what the fuck...don't be shooting up my car, nigga...!" Yelled the guy. One of the Ballas, an African American male with a goatee and mustache of medium brown complexion of about five foot eight inches wearing a purple bandanna, an LS Panics jersey, and violet blue gym shorts, yelled, "Nigga you're shot worry about that! Fuck your car, let's ice these green rag fags!"

Lamar returned fire with his handgun standing up and he hit a Baller wearing a white T with a purple SA for San Andreas in the stomach and chest. The Ballers peppered rounds at him until Franklin forcibly grabbed him and pulled him down to cover. "Nigga get your dumb ass down before you get clipped, fool! You know your lanky ass is easy to hit!"

As the Ballas continued firing the hood nigga on the ground shouted, "Damn can't any yall motherfuckers shoot?! Damn! You all shoot like you aint never held a gun in your life! You fuck up my whip you buy a new one!" A Baller who had been wearing shades, a fresh crisp white T, and a pair of blue jeans and he had a purple flag around his neck, yelled, "Nigga you could be dead in a minute! Don't stress out or you'll bleed faster!" He fired trying to hit Franklin. "Besides, your ass could be popping these niggas too! The fucks wrong with you?! That's your car homie so that's your problem!"

Franklin got around to a passenger seat and whipped out the AA-12. "Motherfuckers, I got something for your ass. See what's really popping, niggas!" He fired off several rounds rapidly and hit the banger in the sternum, the guy in the shades. The guy cried out and did a full one eighty before collapsing to the ground holding his wound. Lamar fired around the side. "Fuck all ya'll! Ole Lobster ass bitches!"

The wounded thug got to his feet the guy who owned the car and Lamar hit him with two rounds as he blindly fired from the side, this time hitting the large black man in the back. "Baller Killa, bitch! Fuck your hood!" Franklin aimed at a female Baller who was actually shooting straighter than her male counterparts. He let a few pop and hit the bitch in the neck. Her throat gushed blood all over herself and the ground as she helplessly dropped her weapon and fell to the ground, her mouth open.

Franklin had taken four from her in the chest and one in the left shoulder. Lamar fired the last of his magazine before reloading but yelled, "FC! You alright, nigga?" Franklin had just been grazed but aside from that, had body armor on and it had just hit the vest. "Yeah I'm straight, dog! Stupid ho got the vest! Aint no thang!" Lamar cackled, "Damn homie you came here with armor on? I can't decide if that makes you smart or a jinx!"

Franklin dropped another Baller with a headshot, the rounds splitting his face completely apart and it destroyed the purple baseball cap he had on backwards too.

The top half oh his face had been blown off and his eyes or what had been his eyes were now a mangled mess next to at least a fourth of the asshole's brain. "Motherfucker I sleep with this shit on some days! Given what's been happening in my life lately that aint such a bad idea!"

Franklin snuck into the car and began hot wiring while Lamar covered as he managed to wound two Ballas in the shooting exchange. The engine roared to life and Franklin rolled into the drivers side but kept his head down as bullets flew through the window sending glass shards everywhere as the left side back seat window exploded. Franklin drove up to where Lamar had taken cover. "LD! Get your black ass in before I leave your ass! With the quickness!"

Lamar fired about nine shots at the attacking Ballas who despite the superior numbers were losing badly in the gun fight. He dove in and kept his head down too. Bullets hit the back bumper of the Felon as well as the windshield. "Aight we straight nigga get us to Los Santos customs!"

Franklin yelled, "You're one dumb motherfucker you know that? We just jacked a ride from the Rolling Heights Ballas! You know they're finna come back hard on the set! They may be more about their scrill and Families is about banging and putting in work but nigga you know they always come back if somebody starts clapping their homies!"

Lamar snorted, "Chill the fuck out, Frank. We got the ride and we're not dead. What more do you want from me?" Franklin said, "How about not getting us in that shit in the firs place?! I swear, nigga, first that repo job in Vespucci Beach and then..."

Lamar snapped, "Nigga you keep on ragging on me about Vespucci Beach I'ma smoke that ass myself! It's the past! Get over it. You got a free fucking bike out of it you should be kissing my ass even today for that! Especially if that Bar Ho actually put down twenty g's on that motherfucker!"

Franklin couldn't believe his best friend was this dumb. "Yeah that would be true except we were supposed to take it back to the dealership and because you didn't we got fired! You pretty much fucked us out of the straight life!" Lamar corrected him, "No, I got fired cause of that remember? You got fired cause that white dude had you drive through Simeon's shop!"

Franklin angrily said, "Nigga, you're part of that even if you weren't there. If it had just been me crashing into a shop he might have let me slide with it but because of your dumb ass move he thought we were both ripping him off when really only you were!"

The other banger showed contempt in his voice. "Man, what happened to Families for life dog? Forum Gangsters, motherfucker did you forget that? You and me was homies long before we met that buster so you should be on my side about it, mayne! You and me were gonna be runnin our set having legitimate business and our street hustles. Finna say fuck the niggas not showing us no love I mean you know I got love for Chamberlain Hills but they in Chamberlain not Strawberry and that nigga Gerald never shows a homie no love."

Franklin rolled his eyes. "Yeah except that job was legit, stupid! That could have been part of my hustle. That could have been a better way for a lot of homies in the hood we could have paved the way for a lot of little niggas looking to make more than just chump change slinging dime bags and boulders. If that's what you had in mind for Forum Drive you could have said that and I would have made it work but you had to go and fuck it all up as usual!"

He then continued adding, "Point is, bro, Simeon aint from CGF or Forum Drive, Franklin. He may have given us a job and we made some legit paper but ultimately he was screwing us. My pops always told me when I was coming up If I play pussy I'm bound to get fucked. I aint no pussy, fool. Simeon's lucky he came out of all that alive if that white dude is as crazy as you say he is! I should have booked that motherfucker myself when he fired me. Tripping ass."

They pulled into the Los Santos Customs finally and got it resprayed and repaired After several hours as they pulled out Lamar said out of the blue, "Hey man, so I know whoever was janky to you guys on your paper you got from that heist you was telling me about, hey at least you still got some money, right?" Franklin asked him, "You aint still tripping on the fifty bucks are you? Look I told you I got you dog just..."

His homie cut him off. "No! I'm not asking for a hand out dog. I'm back in the game and I can get my own money but what I'm saying is, while you always trying to come up in the world maybe you should take some time to appreciate what you got? You could do a lot worse than a million! I heard you and the white boys talking. I mean, you know the cripple dude we just met? He's always investing in stocks and shit you told me that yourself. You should do that. Either do that or put your shit in the bank and let it build up. Don't be like these other scrubs around the hood that get a little change and go and blow it all at titty bars and 500 dollar bottles, nigga!"

Franklin chuckled. "Don't you do that?" He responded, "That's not the point, F! The point is we shouldn't be! i know you think I'm dumb but I do know how to see the big picture, partna. I really do..."

As he drove he said, "Whatever you say, Lamar. Anyway, listen it's too hot to drop by the hood. We're dropping in on my crib up in the hills. Po po is less likely to come looking for a couple of CGF niggas that way. We lay low a while. This aint the first time we did all this shit but you do a shooting in the hood and with all the shit I've done already, the heat is bound to catch me if I don't play it cool."

_The Next Morning..._

All though he had a nice bed they both crashed in the living room in front of the TV. He woke up to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He checked it. To his surprise it was his old boss, Simeon. _What the hell does he want? _He answered and said, "Simeon? What the hell do you want, bro? You told me you were done with me, remember?"

Simeon was panicked and he sounded like he was in a car as he could hear a speeding vehicle. "_This is no time to dwell on the past my boy! I need your help! There are these two Hispanic gang members...these racist assholes trying to kill me! I think they are either Mara Bunta or Aztecas I am not sure which!"_

Frank sat up. "What the hell did you do? What do you want me to do? You fired me remember? Now you call me when you need something?" His former boss begged, "_I promise you, I will give both of you your jobs back if you help me! I am headed through down town trying to lose them! I am coming up San Andreas Avenue! If you ever really valued our friendship, help! I should not have fired you I know this now! I am sorry!" _

Franklin cursed, "Shit! Aight mn, hold on I'll try to get there as soon as I can just hang in there man! Stay on the line!" He talked into the phone and said, "Hello? Simeon? Fuck!" He kicked Lamar awake. "Hey LD, we gotta roll homie! There's some fools trying to ice Simeon!"

He was grumpy from being woke up. "Nigga, what? Fuck that punk, Frank! That dude fired us. You woke me up for this...?" Franklin urged him, "Man if you don't get your lanky ass up off my floor I'll drag you out! Come on, man! You the one that got us in that shit. You're the one that got him in the shit with Mexicans anyway. Maybe that's what they're here for. South Side alliance shit. We gotta go help him I was just on the phone and the line went dead!"

Lamar grumbled. "Why do you gotta be such a bitch, man? That motherfucker had us wasting time for him and then just drops us like that? Fuck him he's better off dead. Lucky I didn't book his ass myself when he fired me, nigga! he should know better than to hire and then fire a couple of hood niggas from CGF."

Franklin said, "Fine, asshole. You stay I'm going. If you let him die you're no better than he is!" Lamar got up and grumbled. "Fine, I'm coming hold up."

_Run For The Hills_

_Two Days Later_

It had been a while since he'd been cruising around the city. He'd drove around East Los Santos after having been driving through South L.S.

Now Culebra was on his way back to the varrio. He pulled up to Joker's place. Sure that guy was too crazy for his own good but he was the shot caller and he was back so it was business as usual. Joaquin knocked on the door of the apartment. Joaquin had just gotten done seeing his parole officer which ironically was the same man as his. This was not good considering it wouldn't be hard to figure out they were both felons associating with each other. A clear violation of parole.

The El Salvadoran gangster opened the door. His hair was messy as usual. He wore only a white wife beater and polka dot boxers. "What's up, J? Hey hang on a second, vato. I know you need some work so meet me out front. I gotta get dressed. Actually, you feel like going for a cruise?"

The same song, Vato he'd been listening to the other day was playing all though not as loudly as normally. Joker looked hung over. The lyrics from Chino Grande rolled through the speakers.

_ See a nigger tall skinny with a fat chain said to cough it up quick before you lose your brains Hit him up where you from I don't give a shit he starts to stutter and says Rolling 20 crip _

_see the homie reach back cold cock this fool followed with them Cortez and house shoes._

_ He's slipped on his blood it sends him back now he';s on the floor crawling like a crab now see the homie creep up on the east with it grab his wallet and his chain ese gonna leave with it but what I don't know is who really is this fool come to find out damn ese it's the nigger snoop! Head back to the spot better snatch his braids hell yeah cause it's time to get paid. _

_'Vato you won't believe what i saw' Shut the fuck up before I sock you in the jaw. We twist our fingers so you know who we are South Sider riders with tattoos and scars. Snoop Dogg you aint got no bars snitching on the radio they shot up your car. Get the strap clap here we go again cause this is going out to all my Mexicans._

Joaquin said, "That's what I was just doing, brother. Where to? I just got back from seeing that puto Castillo. Fucking malinche panocha," Joker sid, "Gotta go down town. Give our homeboy Sniper a lift. He's down there slinging good shit. I know you just got back so you get a tax break but for us it's tax paying time. Gotta send some feria and a couple of kites to the pinta. Let the gente on the inside know we haven't forgotten them."

He went outside. Lefty and Rosita walked up. Rosita hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Lefty slapped hands and they exchanged a quicker hug. "What's happening, homie? You hear for Joker?" The Mexican ex soldier said, "Si mon. Gotta go pick up Sniper. He's downtown. How is he anyway? I missed that crazy puto on the inside. He still lifting?"

Both Rosita and Lefty laughed. "Like nobody else! He didn't need a trip upstate to get pumped. He's actually doing some volunteering weight training some of the homies taking them out to Muscle Beach," Rosa said.

Anyway, how have you been, man? You look tired. I hear from the grape vine you're trying to crash in park benches and shit. That aint cool, man. All kinds of junkies and child molesters down there. Remember when you first got jumped in? It wasn't easy fr you then living on the streets it's only a little less hard now!"

It was true. Seeing as Joaquin had been an orphan since age eight and had been from foster home to foster home and in and out of children homes from eight to fourteen, he had run away and had been armed only with his own fists and the pocket knife he had been given by his papi before he had passed. The homeless dudes had fucked with him a lot until he ended up cutting one of them. That had gotten the attention and respect of Mara Bunta. That was how he started kicking it with them.

They'd taken him in and assured him that staying with homies in doors even in a war zone like East L.S. was still better than being outside at night in downtown. Joker came out, wearing a dark blue flannel shirt over a black T shirt and blue jeans

Rosa was wearing a dark blue midriff top that showed off her flat toned stomach, and also revealed her busty cleavage. She wore khakis like many of the guys and even seemed to have boxers on as some female bangers tended to do especially cholas but even so she looked sexy.

Lefty was wearing an aqua blue checkered shirt over a Royal Blue T shirt. He wore tan khakis and Colonel Juan tennis shoes from Pro Laps. He also had a gold crucifix. He'd been raised Catholic but that didn't mean shit. A lot of vatos in the barrio were raised Catholic but many were lapsed. Joaquin was wearing dirty black jeans, a gray T shirt and a camouflage jacket.

"Orale, let's go. Hey, Rosa you coming or staying? We're probably going to go see the car show on Whittier," She shrugged. "Maybe. I got something to do but I might."

Just then Joker got a call on his cell. "Hola. Oh you wanted that now? Well shit let me get over there first!" He hung up after saying a few sentences in Spanish. "Hey I'm going to have to meet you guys there. Rosa, you mind going with me? I got some shit to take care of."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure, Armando it's not like I have a life or anything!" Lefty assured her, "Come on, Esa. Get in. We'll take you to where you need to go on the way to get Sniper. We gotta drop Joaquin off too."

Joaquin asked, "Where are you taking me?" Lefty said, "You know I love you, right hermano? But mira, you look like a homeless schizophrenic with those clothes and that beard. You're Nahuatl homie. Beards are for Euro trash. Our joven were better when we were clean shaven."

He was referring to the fact that being that they all were Indigenous, before contact with Europeans and inter marriage, native populations seldom if ever had beards or facial hair. Except for maybe the Eskimo but that was evolution and necessity for a cold climate so it was understandable. Joker chuckled saying, "Sure but then you don't get the fun of giving rucas mustache rides , Ese!"

This got a laugh out of all of them but Rosa said, "You fucking boboso you haven't changed," Joker assured her, "I never will! Jose, you can handle this one bro. See you in a little bit."

They got in Lefty's car and once again Joaquin drove. "First off, home, take us to the Sub Urban. You may have used my flat t shower but it's those clothes making you stink. And we gotta drop you bu the barber. That facial hair has gotta go. It's one thing to have a little bit like me but when you look like ZZ Top? That's gacho."

They began to head west toward downtown. They were headed to Alta first since he needed a haircut and he needed new clothes. They put the radio on and the song People Of The Sun by Rage Against The Machine played. Joaquin liked this song. Zach De La Rocha was sowing homage to the Native Mexican tribes especially Nahuatl and acknowledging his own Raza blood. Rosa asked Joaquin, "So what have you been up to since you've been back?"

He said, "Not that much actually. Haven't had that much time. Just been trying to make enough denero to get my own place. For now I guess Lefty is who I'm staying with since he insists upon it. By the way I hear you moved out is that right?" She nodded. "Yeah I got a place in El Burro Heights. I'm not that far away. Still got MGB homeboys and homegirls out there to keep a girl company so I'm just fine. Plus I can finally date vatos from other varrios if I want and not have to worry about my brother's overprotective ass trying to ruin it," She said with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

He said, "Look sis, you know I'm just looking out for you. Used to be a time that cholos and cholas always honored each other but nowadays a lot of guys are just looking to get into your pants. It goes that way in every community too. I just look after you since mom and dad aren't around anymore."

Joaquin turned to him saying, "Serio? When did this happen? I mean I know tu padre was gone but what about your mama?" Jose said, "You already know my dad had his accident out there working for the gringos in Rockford Hills. The ladder was faulty and he fell. He didn't have any health insurance so he died that day. Mi jefita died in her sleep. Had a stroke when you were in the clinker."

He felt sorrow at that. "Lo siento, carnal. I didn't know. I'll have to try and visit her grave sometime," He shook his head. "She didn't have one. She was cremated same as jefito. She wanted her ashes spread out in Mount Chiliad. She always loved the view there. Papa had his ashes spread over near the Vinewood Hills sign since he was such a movie buff and all."

Joaquin looked at Rosa. "How are you handling it? I don't mean to pry..." She sighed. "I miss them I want to go find who the family was that hired my dad and go kill their whole family but leave some alive at least so they know what I feel. As for mami it's terrible but at least she went peaceful. I wish we hadn't scattered their ashes in separate places but they both had places they loved more. I just hope in some way as the wind scattered their ashes, that in some form they're together again."

He said, "I hear you there. I miss my parents too. I'm starting to forget what they look like."

He stopped off in Alta and got out. He went into the barber shop. It was a black woman. He didn't exactly want to give this lady his money but he needed it. He said, "Just need a shave. That's all."

After fifteen minutes it was done. He got out and paid her and then walked next door. He bought himself some new clothes. He purchased a turquoise checkered shirt which he only buttoned the top button and a black T shirt. He also got himself some gray khakis and even a blue bandana which he tied around his forehead and held his hair back. There was a certain way cholos even put bandanna on. It was very neat and calculated. He came out with the old clothes in a bag. "Q vo, perro now you look chingon!"

He began to drive to downtown their original destination and Rosa nodded in agreement. "I agree. Mucho guapo!" He chuckled sheepishly and said, "Gracias, mija. You look good too, hermosa," Lefty said, "Oye, don't make me put the fucking hose on you too. Cold showers and shit, ese!"

The radio station had a Weazel news update. "_Police are still trying to piece together the brutal shooting that occurred yesterday in downtown Los Santos at a luxury car dealership. In a violent shootout several men were left dead at the scene who police say were members of the notorious homegrown gang known as Armenian Pride who at one time were thought to be a small time street gang but in recent years have become more like an organized crime organization. Among the bodies the owner of said shop, Simeon Yeterian was found dead next to one of his own Beejay XL's just off of San Andreas Avenue. Mr. Yeterian was found shot in the head at point blank range. The motive for the shooting is still unknown and the suspects are still at large. Eyewitnesses say they saw two Latino males fleeing the scene wearing gang colors."_

They described them as best as they could height wise and what they'd been wearing. Luckily their faces were covered. Lefty shook his head. "If one more fucking gringo or mayate refers to me as Latin or Hispanic or an immigrant when I'm a fucking Mayan, I'm going to either beat them or shoot them. I swear no matter how many times I tell people we're Anahuac natives, they don't ever fucking listen."

Rosa said, "Wait a minute, that was you guys?" He nodded. "Yeah but be cool all right? He had a hand in Esteban's death so he had to go! That's just the way it is. We still haven't caught the two Family putos that were the ones to steal his bike. We still gotta clip those fuckers too."

Joaquin said, "All in good time, hermano. For now let's just go get Sniper. I haven't seen that guy in ages. I miss him," They pulled up to the street where they suspected he would be, near a back alley in the Textile District. "I don't see him. here did he go?" Asked Rosa as they drove. Just then Lefty called out, "Back up! I just saw him!"

They reversed and they spotted the Mara Bunta gang member in a fight. He was fighting four black males dressed in green. They got out of the car. Sniper was about five foot nine in height but he was a body builder so he made up for his height in strength but now he was outnumbered. He had a bloody lip from one of the Family thugs, a black man with curly hair and a sly sneering expression and an Afro pick. He wore red basketball shorts and a green T shirt. Him and his homies were rat packing him.

A heavy set black man with jowels and green do-rag, a black sweater and blue jeans punched him as hard as he could but was tiring out so even as he hit him, he was not doing as much damage as before. Sniper head butted the Family goon and threw a hard right into his fat stomach. He then drop kicked the skinny sly looking punk in the stomach and punched him in the nose. Hekept on him pouncing the young banger but the other three rushed him bombarding him with blows to the back of the head and his back and rib cage. He fell down but he pulled the banger down with him.

Sniper kicked a short, lean gang member in the balls and he continued to try to punch the main one even as the other pummeled him. Lefty brought his Glock 17 just in case they would try and pull one out. Joaquin grabbed ab abandoned chair left tiled over with one leg broken. He picked it up. It smelled like piss but would have to do. He went after the lean banger who had a bloody nose that Sniper had given him. "Let's cut this wetback up into taco meat, nigga!" He removed a switch blade. Joaquin threw the chair at the guy beaming him in the face.

Lefty tackled the young gang banger who seemed to be the instigator. He threw the guy against the wall and began bombarding him with punches. He knocked the guy back and he scraped his elbow on the ground. The green clad gangster got to his feet and Lefty hit him in the jaw again as the black came up swinging. "Fucking stupid bitches never fight one on one! Couldn't handle my homie so you had to rush him? Fucking chavala!"

The youth who was maybe nineteen or twenty yelled, "Fuck you! Ya'll beaners be doing that shit all the time cause you're all short! That's the only reason you winning is cause you got numbers. Without that you aint shit!" Lefty hit him with a right jab and a hard left to the nose. "If you fucking niggers are such giants then what's your excuse?!"

The guy tackled Lefty and hit him in the chest. "Fucking wetback mothrfucker! I'll beat your greasy ass back to the border!" Lefty head butted him. "Not before I beat your ass back to the Atlantic ocean and put you on the Amistad and back home , puto!" He threw the guy on the ground and kicked him in the side. Sniper yelled as he kicked the fourth banger, a man about Joaquin's height in the face. "Yeah! You putos come from Africa! We were always here! Take your grape soda drinking asses back to the south where the rest of your people ran to!"

It was true. Part of the demographic change in recent years making brown people the majority in Los Santos was due in part from more Indigenous Mexicans and Central Americans but also because many blacks were tired of South Central and were moving back to the south, the first place they had been on this continent. Joaquin took several blows from the guy he had attacked. Joaquin dodged his next punch and caught him with an uppercut. Rosa was duking it out with the fat thug.

He was trying to fight her without hitting her by just throwing her aside but she kept coming back punching him in the face, stomach and chest. She kicked him in the groin and his eyes bugged out. "Ahhh shit! Not my balls, bitch!" He grabbed her by the throat and she kneed him in the stomach but the black male was determined to hit her back. "Mama said ...don't hit a bitch but I draw the line at my ding a ling, go!" He punched her in the face. His knuckles were swollen and sore from already punching Sniper as he had been.

Rosa spat in his face. "I bet she hits harder than you do," With that she hit him with a blow to the Adams apple. As Lefty and the leader tangled on the ground the young punk managed to roll out of his grapple and stood up, nose bleeding and pulled out a 9mm. "Fuck ya'll. You're just Mexican lobsters. Family goes harder. This shit aint over!" They ran out of the alley and ran to an SUV. Lefty yelled, "J, get the car, bro! This shit isn't over!"

They got into his bomba and began to drive to the next street just as they saw the white Cavalcade taking off. Lefty gritted his teeth. "Pubic haired sons of bitches! Teach you to fuck with my comaradas! Hey, Sniper you all right back there?" Sniper said, "Im cool,perro. Thanks for getting my back back there."

Rosa assured him, "De nada., It's what we do. We're familia," She noticed Lefty was loading up his Uzi. "Jose, no! Let's follow them back to their hood and then deal with them. Too may juras downtown!" Joaquin retorted, "You think there won't be in whatever lame hood these Tranny's live in?" She shrugged. "Maybe or maybe not but when there's not overlapping patrols in South Central and there is a shooting, the juras always take like an hour to respond to a 911 call."

Jose demanded, "Culebra you still got your fusca, compa? You're going to need it. We're going duck hunting!" He told him, "Si mon que si. We'll get these levas as soon as they stop and I don't care how many other Tranny's we have to drop. They're all going in the ground, those four!"

Sniper growled, "Fucking chimps, ese! I would have fought them fairly one on one no weapons if they'd done the same. That punk the one talking all that shit I think his name's Brian. Him and his homies tried to give me shit for slinging on their turf but that aint Families turf that's a neutral zone downtown is anybody's game!" While this was true, being that it was as Spider said, this made it a hot bed for gang confrontations as well.

The thug named Brian yelled from his SUV, "You niggas follow us back to the jungle you aint coming back, motherfucker! Mexicans are food in my neighborhood, bitch!" Rosa shouted back, "Did you say something? All I saw was teeth!" The other bangers screamed obscenities at her and flipped her off. Joaquin figured they were not shooting at them for the same reasons the Mara Buntas were not.

Lefty shouted back, "Returning to your cannibalistic nature you dirty spear chuckers? This is one Mexican scalp you aint getting, pendejos! The only thing you'll be eating is a bullet today!" Joaquin cracked a grin at the implication saying that even now those motherfuckers were buffalo soldiers.

Rosa began typing fast on her phone. Joaquin said, "Please tell me you aren't about to bleet this shit?" She said, "Chale, idiota I'm texting Joker to get his ass over here!"

The fat guy yelled, "Fuck you bums! Go back to Taco Bomb with your greasy asses! You can say you hate on niggas but you listen to our music and dress like us!" Rosa chuckled, "They've got it ass backwards, the way they dressed in the 90's was how we dressed in the 70's."

Joaquin nodded. "Not only that but they didn't solely invent rap. Puerto Ricans did too. And besides Flor Y Canto had nothing to do with them but that contributed to Hip Hop too. The other thug the short one Joaquin attacked yelled, "Yeah yo Mexi mama was all up on deez nuts!" Sniper shouted back as Joaquin floored it to keep up with them, "No, she makes a point of not having sex with yard ornaments homes! You look like the south end of a northbound baboon, fuck face!"

The thug yelled back, "Man fuck yall racist Mexicans! Go back to Taco Bomb!" Rosa cackled, "We know where you'll be! Clucking Bell begging for change and trying to lick chicken grease from customers fingers!"

The thug Brian, tried ramming them to get them to crash. Joaquin yelled, "Oh that's how you want to play it, cock suckers? Bring it on! I did two tours in Iraq!" He rammed the SUV back. The guy Brian yelled, "Call the homies up let them know we got unwelcome company! It's lunch time, mayne!"

Brian yelled at them, "I don't know why ya'll hate on us! The original man was black! You hating on yourself!" Joaquin shouted back. "The original man would have to be omni racial what the fuck does that have to do with anything?!" Lefty laughed and said humorously, "Mira, even if we were were descended from a bunch of nappy headed gorillas and the first man was black, that would mean God got it wrong on the first try because why else would there be other races? Your skin doesn't just change from being in other lands or else them and gringos would be brown by now! Th first man would have had to look like people from all races. That's why the Story of Noah at least makes sense he had a black son, a white son and an Asian son he was middle eastern que no?"

Sniper laughed and shouted, "You hear that, bitches?! You're God's beta version! You're the rough draft and we're the final draft! Eat shit and die, putos!"

The fat guy revealed a pistol which he held up to see as Joaquin and Brian tried running each other off the road. "I got something for yall! You picked the wrong niggas to fuck with!" The taller thug yelled, "Yeah! I eat Mara Buntas for breakfast! Like hot grits, mothafucka! You all should have stayed out of it!" The Ex Marine and current MBG gang member replied, "Do you guys ever shut the fuck up or do you just talk just to hear your own voice?"

The tall thug who seemed to be the only one on their side who had not yelled racial obscenities just as Joaquin had not either, hollered, "Yo, Breezy, get us back to the hood so we can pop these marks, nigga!" Joaquin presumed that Breezy was the nickname this Brian asshole went by. Breezy responded, "I'm on it! They're finna see how we do it up in the Hills!"

The car took a turn off on a street as they headed south. Finally they pulled up in front of the Chamberlain Hills housing projects. Several green clad thugs were awaiting them. They opened fire on the Voodoo. Joaquin ducked down as did the rest of them. They got out of the car, using the doors as cover. Rosa came out firing her Sig Sauer PP26.

Joaquin returned fire too, and he aimed for the fat guy. He nailed the prick in the stomach with three rounds. The guy cried out letting out a bellowing grunt. Rosa fired a shot and hit him in his fat jowls, the round tearing into his Adams apple. He leaked like a broken dam holding his neck as the blood turned the color of his clothes from green to dark red.

A green clad thug in a Boars baseball jersey with cornrows and a green LS hat fired a .357 Desert Eagle. Sniper fired his Glock 18 which he had switched to fully automatic. He leveled the CGF thug with rounds to the stomach, chest and side and as he fell to his back and head.

Joaquin fired and hit the scrawny guy he had scrapped with with a head shot. Somehow the guy was just wounded as the bullet had hit him in the left cheek but Joaquin fired one in his sternum and he stayed down. Lefty fired and hit two CGF gangsters with a flurry of rounds from the Uzi which had a sixty round mag. "You assholes owe me a new fucking car!"

Sniper aimed for the tall guy and fired his own gun letting the rest of the 32 rounds hit the guy. The banger rattled as he bullets shook him tearing fresh red holes in his green attire. He staggered back and several teeth were blown out as the last two rounds hit him in the jaw. A short and fat thug with a sawed off shotgun fired at the car. Joaquin ducked to cover but took a few pellets in the arm. "Ahhhh! Goddamn it!" He blindly fired around the side and hit the guy in the left leg and right knee. The guy stumbled and fell but fired the other shot.

Residents of the projects who were non gang affiliated either ran inside or ran away from the scene screaming. A gang member in a green checkered shirt which he had buttoned up and tan khakis fired at them. Lefty stayed in cover behind his ranfla which was being shot to shit.

Lefty fired blindly from cover and hit one black male in his early twenties in the back of the legs as he was running to cover and two rounds got him in the left Achilles tendon. He shrieked like a banshee. "BRIAN! They sprayed me man...!"

The CGF thug yelled, "Shit, hang tight bro! We're gonna get you to a hospital in a minute, dog!I aint letting these motherfuckers kill us they may have laid some homies out but they're dead men walking!" Just then a car rolled up and two men got out an one of them was Joker, the other, a homie from Mara Bunta who Joaquin did not recognize so he must have been jumped in during the time he was gone. All the same he was tatted up like crazy. He wore a teal basketball jersey over a white T shirt and he wore a blue L.S. hat on backwards and sunglasses along with a goatee. He also wore blue jeans.

He was firing a pistol as soon as he got out and so was Joker except he had an M-16 variant. He sprayed several people mowing down four CGF members. "Somebody dump on these fools, nigga they're dropping homies like flies!"

Joker had killed two CGF goons and wounded the other two only due to the rounds having entry and exit wounds as that was how it was with that kind of weapon. The MBG gangster fired a shot each from his own cuete and finished off the two wounded Family hoods.

Brian fired his pistol wildly like a mad man. He held it like the rappers did in the videos so he was missing a lot but he hit the MBG homie with rounds to chest and then the back. The guy had just fired seventeen rounds and only six of them had hit but it was more than enough to drop the South Side loco. Brian shouted, "Yeah! Who's the g now, fool?"

Joker peppered rounds at the CGF in the area forcing them into cover and hitting two more one with five rounds to the head which caused a burst of rounds to explode out of the back of his skull tearing through his Los Santos Corkers hat, decorating it with brain and skull fragments. He hit the other with seven rounds. Two of which hit the black thug in the sternum, three in the stomach and one in the jugular which sprayed like a broken water main and one in the left ear.

That was the last of the twenty rounds left in his mag he had used to kill those two. The amount of rounds that had hit were almost ironic in a way. Thirteen hit, seven missed. _Big bad trece! _Joaquin thought in his head. Joker saw Brian trying to run while wildly firing from a fresh magazine. He fired and hit the kid in the right knee with a five round burst. He went down and howled in pain. He also raked the rounds up and two hit him in the bladder one in the groin just just barely missing his dick.

The CGF who weren't dead were scattered and in cover as Joker, Sniper and Rosa kept them all pined down which was amazing because they were outnumbered but Joker had superior firepower to them. Joaquin approached the fallen Family goon as did Lefty. Lefty kicked the gun away from Brian. Lefty said, "You and me loco. Same time."

Brian held his bloody wounds but still stared up at them defiantly. "I aint gonna beg you! I didn't beg the punk ass Lobsters I aint gonna beg any punk ass spics neither! Fuck you! Kill me! I done seen everything but Christ anyhow I die for my hood!" Joaquin said, "Word of advice mano. If you don't like Mexicans, get the fuck out of our city. We were always here. This is Aztlan. Es mi Tierra."

With that they both fired, Joaquin pumping six rounds into the youth while Joker sprayed ten rounds from his waist up to his chin. Joaquin's rounds all hit the guy in the chest, penetrating his heart. The man collapsed with blood dripping from his mouth. Joker approached and said, "Hey, let me see that Uzi, bro. You guys should take off," Lefty said, "I will when I get my Uzi back, cabron!"

He looked toward the SUV which was near an apartment building, one of the adjacent complex walls. He fired the last eighteen or so rounds into the gas tank. The vehicle exploded and the building caught fire too. "Joker, what he fuck, man?" Joaquin cried out. "What if there were kids in there?" The leader was ruthless. "Who gives a shit who's in there? You think they give a shit when they come through our calle shooting at any and everybody and only hit a little girl or an old person? All I want is for these shitty projects to burn. We need to get out of here before the chotas come. I think we made our point here."

They got into Lefty's car and were flooring it out of there. As they pulled out of Chamberlain Hills, Lefty advised, "Drive slower, man. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves. Just act natural," Joaquin heeded the OG's advice but demanded, "What the fuck was that back there? Has Joker lost his mind?! He has no idea who was in that apartment, dude!"

Lefty pointed out, "Mira, I know it's ugly. Just pray that if there is kids in there they got out all right. Then again, didn't you kill some kids over in Iraq too?" Joaquin sighed stopping at a red light. Three patrol cars went speeding the other direction their lights flashing and sirens blaring. "Yeah...some. I didn't want to. I had no choice. Some of those guys back there gave little kids bombs. Sometimes in their diapers, sometime the'd give them AK's or RPG's. I didn't want to I just...had to..."

Rosa sympathized. "I'm sorry, Joaquin...I had no idea. Are you okay?" Joaquin nodded. "Yeah...for now. I'd rather not get into details right now. I've only been back in town a couple days and I'd rather get more settled in before I start telling war stories. The point is, I had no choice. Armando had a choice. Why would he do that?"

Lefty said, "Mira, homie. You gotta remember, he came straight from El Salvador before you were around. I was around back then but I wasn't from El Salvador. My parents were workers both of the. So I'm Mexican and El Salvadoran but I am one of the originals to represent Mara Bunta in Los Santos. Just he's one of the last few Mara Bunta originals who was actually in the civil war back in Central America. He grew up in that shit. War is what he knows, bro. Just be glad he's not raping and pillaging like we used to hear about."

Joaquin shook his head. "Raping, no, but destroying innocent lives? Yeah! La Onda started in the big pen to protect La Raza, remember? Protect Indios, Mayans, Nahuatls, Yaqui, from getting picked on. Even the El Salvadoran youth that got to this city in the 80's they only cliqued together to protect themselves against American gangs. I know most of the veteranos back in the day were muy muy loco but La Onda gave us stability and we should be following the reglas. We don't follow society's rules but we have our own and we gotta follow one of the two, que no?"

Sniper said, "You're right carnal but remember that Joker was a Mara Bunta before the days we joined the South Sider alliance. Before 1992 that was anarchy. Now he shaped up just like everybody else under the Mexican Mafia but our cliqua is unique in that regard. Most cliquas in the barrios didn't start off as guerrilla fighters. I mean sure, Indian tribes an nations practiced guerrilla warfare back in the day but not for several generations. South of the border, it's a whole other story, homes. It's still the wild west down there as far as I'm concerned."

Rosa asked, "So what does that make Armando exactly? Just a rebel without a cause? Or a rebel with a cause? Anyway you put it, that war is over. He's in his 40's. He survived the 80's and 90's. It's time to start acting like an adult and not a war lord."

The Mexican banger shrugged as he drove them through Strawberry. "We're still at war though aren't we? It's just changed. Like our ancestors fought the Spaniards and then the US Army, right? Now it's the cartels and the federales fucking Mexico over. Now we're at war with the Families and Ballas. They're more insignificant than the Aztecas but maybe if we can focus on the jotos in the Kool Aid gang and the Tranny's then maybe we can stop banging on our own raza in other cliquas."

Sniper agreed with him. "I'd love nothing more. Enough is includes our pedo with the San Fierro Rifa. Something every L.S. varrio has. And the Aztecas. I just know that too many pee wees are looking to make a name for themselves so if that means shooting one of us they're going to try it."

Lefty pointed out, "As much as I'd love to have peace with the Aztecas and be cool with them like we are with the Vagos, and the same goes for the North Side Rifas, for any of those scenarios to even happen you have to get the Veteranos on board. Nothing happens in the barrio without your shot callers say so. The little homies might have a problem with it too maybe but some of our much older veteranos have seen this shit from day one and some survived. They know Brown on Brown pedo is bullshit when we've got the white boys and the blacks breathing down our necks. But like I said, perro, shit can't happen without leaders and representatives of every barrio and every South Side cliqua. But to even start to think about uniting with North Siders we need to get our shit worked out here in Sur San Andreas."

Rosa raised her eyebrows, "So I suppose a truce with the Ballers and Families is out of the question?" Joaquin, Lefty and Sniper all said in unison, "CHALES!"

Sniper said, "Esa, that's an entirely different story. They got issues the same as us but they're not Raza. I would rather die than sit across the table with any of them," Rosa defended herself, "I was just saying, fool, damn!" Without really pronouncing the L in fool as many Ese's and Esa's often did. "I just mean that a lot of our people in La Causa would say the war between bland and brown just helps the white man out. That's all I'm saying."

Lefty chuckled at that. "As much as I can't stand polar bears sis, I don't think they have shit to do with it. Blacks started it with us. We helped them in the riots, they fucked us over. That piece of shit Tackle attacked Mexican businesses even though we were helping riot too against the puercos. They started the war and we're going to finish it. I'm afraid we can't blame this one on the white man, mija. This is strictly a ghetto issue."

Rosa said, "I hear what you're saying I'm not saying I trust them either but what about when the juras come and lock us all up after we blast on tintos? How does that help?" Sniper crackled his knuckles looking like he was wanting another fist fight with anybody who was wearing the wrong color. Or who was the wrong color. "Mija, what you have to understand is, they can't lock all of us up. The pigs make it seem like they're that efficient but the people behind bars don't compare to the ones on the street. Anyway, I don't know where this shit about us having to unite either with polar bears or with blacks comes from. I don't want to be cool with either one. The way I see it, we take the weaker enemy out first and then go for the bigger one. We'll soon be the majority in the USA."

Lefty slapped hands with the vato. "Si mon que si!" He declared with enthusiasm. Besides," Sniper continued. "More non white babies were born this year than white babies. That's what they all fear. Us. They don't want this continent to be taken back. I'm Not going to act like I'm Poncho Villa or Emilio Zapata homies, but when the time comes, I'm going to take back what is ours. And anybody that fucks with our raza will die."

Joaquin curiously asked, "Well if it's not about uniting with either of the enemy why is La Onda united with the Aryan Vanguard? Why is the Nuevo Familia helping out The Black Guerrilla Army in the pen? It's supposed to be you stick by your own. There shouldn't be these problems with our own. But aren't we aiding white power motherfuckers while the North Siders aid blacks?"

Lefty laughed in disbelief. "Ese, you just got out of there, remember? You should know why. The Aryans are the weaker group when it comes to inside the walls. We used to smash on the peckerwoods in the 60's, 70's and 80's and sometimes the Mexican Mafia still does if the white boys get out of line but make no mistake they're doing our bidding not the other way around. We sling tar to their boys and they sling to their own. A lot of those nazi putos are too busy shooting up their arm or fucking their own younger guys up the asses in the shower to do much. They aren't about white power. They only are towards niggers and Jews. The only color they care about is green. They're as much about white nationalism as the Ballers or Families are about black nationalism. We're pretty much crippling the AV the same way the ballas tried to cripple the Families in the 90's."

Rosa said matter-of-factly, "Well if that's the case then both North Siders and South Siders are allied with the wrong people and killing the wrong people. I agree it's going to take some time and we need the bigger homies in on this but I think we can do it. Just not right away."

They left South Central and began to cross the bridge to take them back to East Los Santos. As they cruised back they listened to East Los FM. At first the station was mostly doing Spanish speaking songs but because there were both Chicanos and Mexican nationals in the city, they played both English and Spanish speaking songs.

The song The Danger Zone by Brown Side Featuring Charlie Row Campo played. Rosa grinned. "Si mon! Gotta give it up for our perro, Chino!" Finally they reached the hood. Rosa bid them farewell for now. "Later, Culebra, see ya, Jose. Sniper are you ok? Sorry that happened to you today," He nodded. "I'm fine, loca. Thanks for backing me up today. Serio! You're twice as tough as any two average men on the streets, que no?"

She nodded. She walked off after giving each of them a hug. Sniper said, "I mean that for both of you. Oye, Culebra, I got something for you vato. I appreciate you keeping a trucha for me against the Tranny's. And Jose says you were doing bad on money so here. It's not much but I'm more than happy to help a brother in need."

He gave him $200. "That's really not..." Joaquin started to say but he silenced him. "Just take it bro. It's nothing to me. When I don't have it, I'll try and help you anyway and when I do have it I always share with mi familia. My parents got killed trying to sneak into this country.," He said. It was true. They had snuck into the US via Mexico and had been shot by overzealous border patrol. "So Mara Bunta is the only familia I have! This is carnalismo and you know it is."

Lefty asked, "Hey are either of you hungry? I'm buying," Joaquin said, "I'm in but really it should be me buying since I just got two hundred dollars! Between prison, college, and the military I haven't had any good tasting food in a long time."

Sniper insisted, "No hold onto that, hermano. When the apes from South Central come looking for revenge we need to be prepared and I expect them to use automatics which means you'll need a better fusca than you got on you. The CGF aren't a weak hood. We may outnumber blacks in this city but the thing is not all of either race bangs so you gotta consider that. I think we can take them on but I'm just saying that you never underestimate the enemy. They don't lose because we have more people! Chale! They have some hoods, both Family and Ballas that have as many as 1200 heads, just like some varrios do. They lose against us because they think we're weak. Underestimation. I don't think they're weak. I think they're a bunch of chavalas and good for nothing but I know they can kill."

Lefty agreed. "That's exactly what they'll be looking to do, J. After that shit Armando pulled? It's not a matter of if. It's when. They'll come after us and that's ok but I don't want to see civilians on our side get hurt. I know Joker did what he did but that doesn't mean you or me did that did we? We'll still stand by our homie he's the shot caller of the cliqua but I'm just saying, as second in command? Don't you guys do any dumb shit like what he did today. I'll have a talk with that pendejo later."

Just then, Joaquin's cell rang. He had just gotten it when he had gotten back in town. So far he had only Oso, Lefty, Rosa and even Termite as contacts. He didn't know this number. "Hello?" It was Joker. "Orale! So that was fun what we did right? Good to be back! You and me fresh out of prison reminding people who we are, right?"

Joaquin asked, "Yeah if you say so, but what was with you back there, man? That shit you did...that wasn't cool, bro. You know there's a difference between what's okay and what's not. I know you came up rough so did I and I was in a war myself but you don't see me doing unnecessary moves like that do you?"

Joker laughed. "Culebra, come on, man you sound like a woman! But Rosa didn't complain on the way in either! Besides, if you were in Iraq then you know what's up. All is fair in love and war, perro!" The ex Marine annoyed, said, "Yeah but that wasn't who our war was with. We have no idea who was in there it could have been anyone!" Joker pointed out, "It also could have been nobody, right? You don't know they were at home! Besides, if you're worried about collateral damage inn the Jungle you should know two nappy heads from that project kidnapped and raped a Guatemalan girl for hours and then left her by the side of the road out near Chumash."

Just hearing this made him angry he was not aware of this. "Really? That's gacho, man. I didn't hear about it I only just got out," Armando said, "So did I but Rosa follows stories on Weazel. See, if it was the other way around I but you it wouldn't just be rape charges but hate crimes as well. See how these chanates have privilege that we don't have? They have white liberals who won't post certain stories about what blacks do to us. Only the other way around they make it look like we're the only ones who kill in this war! Weazel News isn't much better but at least they told the story."

Joker continued, "I may do some nasty shit but I'd never do that. Those fuckers deserve to get stabbed and if they end up in a prison with any of our guys, you know what the reglas are. If their own don't deal with them the guys in our carucha have to stick them in the yard or the mess halls or the showers. You always talk about reglas, right? That's the reglas! I'm just returning the favor to CGF but for all you know nobody was probably even in there! So calm down and have a couple of pistos, okay?"

Joaquin sighed, "Yeah whatever, ese. Just think before you act homie. I shouldn't even have to ask. Anyway aside from that I mean it is good to have you back. Two locos from M.B.G. being released is no light thing. I'll talk to you soon,"

Joker nodded. "Orale, hermanito. Gracias for understanding and hey drop by mi canton if you need some work. It'll take me a few days to get settled in but the Jefe is back and it's time to put our house in order! Hasta Luego."

_Fast Food_

_West Vinewood_

_4:48 PM_

Trevor was hanging out with Michael again as he had three days ago since he found about the funds being drained. They were driving in his red truck but they were both shit faced and the road was blurted, "You know...we really shouldn't be drinking and driving...Trevor...we could...we could accidentally run somebody over! It's bad enough you got us in a ...piece of shit...off road vehicle! Why do you hang onto this thing...?"

Trevor was feeling nauseous. Meth mixed with alcohol was not a good combination. "Fuck...them...Michael Townley...they're...just...specs...of dusts...we...are giants...and as for my car...fuck you! This bad boy has seen me through tough times...I'm sorry...if it's not one of your...FUCKING yuppie cars...!"

Michael coughed. "Come on...Trev...you think a car with a roof...and roper doors...and a back seat is a yuppie car...? Gimme a break, man!" Trevor shouted back, "Shut up! I need...some music...to stop me from spewing..."

Michael, though it was not his vehicle, changed the station to Los Santos Rock Radio. Trevor barked, "Hey...! Do not touch another man's radio dial! That's a good way...to lose your hands!" Trevor tried to change it to Channel X but the dials were too blurry. "Ah fuck it...! We'll do it your way..."

The song Lady by Styx played. Trevor coughed and laughed at the same time. "Lady...can we play with your balls..." Michael chuckled saying, "Fuck...you're drunker than I thought!"

They decided to stop at Burger Shot and finally they were sobering up. "Come on, sugar tits. I'm tweaking my ass off but I need to eat and I'm sure you're so famished you're down to an A cup and we can't very well have that, can we?"

They went inside. "Ladies first. Get whatever you want, Mikey," Trevor said. "Yeah...I'll take a Bleeder cheeseburger, large fries, and the ten piece Chicken Clucks. Oh and a large E Cola."

Trevor then placed his order. "I'l take a heart stopper and...a Cowgirl cheeseburger...three of them! Plus a large fries, same thing as him with Chicken Clucks, and a Large Sprunk."

The meal came to $24 total. He paid for it and they got their trays and went to go sit down. Michael took a bite of his burger and said, "My God..that's good...you know...Amanda wants me to stop eating this. Wants me to stick to a kale diet and all that bullshit."

Trevor took a bite as well and chewed it quickly. "Yeah, well that's why I didn't get married. I mean don't get me wrong I want to settle down but it seems to me married guys like you get their freedom taken away and the chains that bind you is that wedding ring."

Michael voiced his disagreement. "It aint that bad, T. It's just a sign of maturity. Getting older, you get tired of being on the run. I mean even you, don't you get tired of the loose women?" The meth dealer and user was annoyed by the question. "I don't get tired of the life, Michael. Who elected Amanda or you to say one woman is loose? They're people too. Just like you and me. A lot of those strippers we both banged during your time apart from your family, were actually sweet girls. As their new employer I got to know them better. Nikki, Juliet, Infernus, Sapphire are all sweet girls once you get to know them."

He scooped up some fries in his ketchup, "Besides," He added, "You met Amanda in a strip club, right? Like I said the last time we hung out. You always did like strippers. So what, Amanda comes home and now it's all hunky dory? No more hookers no more strippers?"

A woman walked by with her seven year old son. The kid asked, "Mom, what's a hooker?" She rolled her eyes and turned to Trevor. "Excuse me but can you watch your language in front of my son?" Trevor, annoyed, growled, "How do I do that? Take my fucking eyeballs out and turn them around?" The kid laughed. "Somebody owes the swear jar a quarter!"

Trevor pulled out one dollar and said, "I'm on my fucking lunch break, okay? Keep the change. Adults are talking here."

She scoffed. "Asshole..." The TP Enterprises honcho turned back to his friend. "So like I was saying, what do you think is going to be different exactly? You think just because she comes home and the kids do, that you'll be able to change your own nature? That's the difference between us, Mike. I'm a realist. I don't fight my nature. I embrace it!"

The middle aged movie producer sipped his soda and said, "Look, I know it won't be easy but I have to try. Remember what we said? We do one last job and move on. Now you, me and Frank are still friends but some things have to change. Now if I can't stop being a grade A sociopath path like that fucking jerk off Dr. Friedlander said I was, then at least I can try being faithful to my wife. I mean you always say this city is so plastic and fake but maybe that's just one Los Santos stereotype I can break, huh? Not be a cheating bastard."

Trevor, dipped his chicken fingers in some honey mustard. "You know that I love your kids but I'm not so crazy about the wife. You and I we had our differences but in reality it was her who changed you. She's the one who started with that superficial shit. Besides, what, she moves out because you tried to attack the yoga instructor? Come on! Then she actually does cheat on you with him. I mean sure, you did start fucking around on her first but you said you'd caught her with a tennis coach before, right? That's how we even got involved with Madrazo! That's what was going on before and after I came back into your lives, right?"

Michael started, "Yeah but..." His friend cut him off. "But nothing! The past is the past what you did however many years you were living under a fake name but recently she cheated on you. Every stripper you went home with after that was just to fill the void from her absence. I may not be some Rockford Hills therapist but I know what I see. Every stripper you banged after that point was her own fault. Really, you should have left her!"

Michael had to stop him. "Don't call her a bitch, Trev. That's my wife we're talking about. Besides, I'm not about to leave my house that I paid for. I make the dough in the place so I own the house. It's pretty much half and half as to who got the kids because in reality we could have both been better parents."

He pounded a fist on the table and a fry bounded to the floor in response to what Michael said. "Exactamundo! She should have been begging you to come home! As for the kids, they may live at home with their parents at a bit of an unreasonable age but they could have still come and seen you. She pretty much poisoned their minds against you."

De Santa sighed. "It's not that simple, T. My son was also mad at me. He spiked my drink. I think because I broke his TV. My daughter was mad at me that I ruined her moment on Fame Or Shame and that I went and crashed her party on a yacht. I fucked up with my whole family. Anyway, why do you care, man? It's always the guys without any kids that love to give advice. You, Dr. Friedlander..."

The balding man took a long drink of soda to wash down his burger. "That's not true. Michael. I have two wonderful kids! We both do! They both call me Uncle Trevor. I may not have them in the traditional sense but you remember that back in North Yankton I cared about them and for them as much as you did. You know...back when you were still thin?" He said with a chuckle.

Michael sighed. "I hear what you're saying, Trevor. Yes, you are part of the family even if you can't get along with my wife. Why is that, anyway? Why don't you like her?" His friends eyes widened as if shocked by the accusation. "I only don't because she doesn't like me, Michael! I try to be civil toward her but she has this stuck up Los Santos air about her."

He processed that last bit looking at Phillips. "As much as I'm trying to move away from the past maybe she wants that more than I do. Maybe that's all. You remind her too much of the old ways when we did what we did back in North Yankton. She expected me to be done by the time I got here with all the violence and I pretty much was for a while until well...that kid from South Central showed up. Things just kind of came up."

Trevor said, "Hey, I gotta tell you something. I got an email from Dave Norton. I know you said to leave him alone but...well here let me show you."

He went through his Ifruit phone and got on the internet and changed his email. "Look at this shit! That fucking prick. He was pretending to be Brad writing to me! You believe this shit? He say anything to you about this?"

Michael lied. "Not a thing T. Wow...that's fucked up. I mean you already knew the truth once you and me went to that graveyard so...look you're not going to do anything hasty are you?" He scowled. "Look, you say he's our only friend in the FIB and he has our back but then how did he let that bullshit with our funds happen? Then he's pulling this shit with Brad? If somebody takes our money and he's done nothing about it, I'd say that makes him a liability."

He took the phone back from Michael and snarled, "That phony two faced prick. Telling me to stay away from him. 'No reply needed' oh yeah? How's a bullet in the head for a reply? Mike, you gotta see it from my end he may have done you all these favors but he hasn't done shit for me."

De Santa scratched his head. "Trevor, after the show down with Weston's men and the FIB and Merryweather nobody has bugged us since. That's due to him. You and Franklin reap the benefit of having a friend in a high place too."

Phillips did not agree. "Franklin is a gang banger. He may have supported us in whatever we did and had our backs all the way through but you know he never wanted to get mixed up with the FIB. Neither did I! We got involved with them because of you. Just like we got in on those car heists with Devon Weston because of Frank. He was the in charge on that remember?"

Michael pointed out matter-of-factly "Not to mention we supported you during your job at the port. Come on, man it's all a little bit of give and take, right?" Trevor crossed his arms. "Okay, Mikey!" He said in a condescending tone. "Why don't you tell me what you want us to do then. Some mysterious asshole takes all of our money, Dave is a no show at our little meet, and he's forging letters and emails from Brad. I should have known he wouldn't have that kind of internet access in a men's correctional facility! So what's it going to be sugar tits?"

Michael took a bite and as he chewed, thought it over. "I can call Davey and ask him what the deal is. See if he knows anything about it on our end. He wasn't mad about Weston's early retirement. He just wanted us all to stay out of trouble. I'll call him tonight but later on, okay? Let me handle it. You're a little too fired up."

Just then, an Armenian American worker approached the two of them. "I'm sorry but I'm going to have to ask the two of you to leave. We've gotten three complaints from customers that you've been loud and discussing things of...non appropriate nature for an environment where families come to eat."

Trevor chewed several fries. "Well if you want us to leave can you at least bag up the rest of our food? I don't see any signs telling us we can't talk however we want. I mean this is America, right? What do I give a shit what other people think? They aren't in this conversation they don't know what I've been through."

Michael tried to de-escalate the situation. "Look, mister we're going to simmer down I mean can we at least stay until we finish our food?" The guy was copping an attitude now. "This isn't a discussion or a negotiation. My boss says you get you guys out of here. You can leave or we call the police. Your choice."

Trevor stood up. "Really? Where is your boss? I'd like to assert my rights as a paying customer!" The guy called his boss out and the man, a middle aged white guy with sandy colored hair who had a name tag that indicated his name was Rusty came forward. "These are the guys?"

The man nodded. "You two need to leave or I'm calling 911," Michael asked him, "Hey come on buddy so we got in a heated discussion these things happen! We've only been here like fifteen minutes. If even that! We'll keep the conversation to an appropriate level and we'll watch the language in front of the children. I have two myself, you know. I understand."

The Armenian grabbed his shirt and said, "Sir you need to leave now. I'm not going to ask again," De Santa growled. "Don't touch me, asshole. This is an expensive suit. I'm only going to ask once!" The guy said, "Yeah, nice rich guy like you graces us with his presence at the lowly establishment at Burger Shot!"

He rolled his eyes at that. "Lowly establishment? This is West Vinewood. We're near Morning Wood. This aint the ghetto!" The manager barked, "That's it! I'm calling the police! It's ringing!" Trevor hopped over the counter and grabbed the arrogant prick slamming his head down on the counter. He took his cell phone and twisted his arm behind him. "I tried...being civilized but now you're being FUCKING RUDE!"

The man cried out, "Sacha! For fucks sake call 911! These guys are psychos!" He started to but Michael grabbed him. "I wouldn't do that!" The youth swung on him. "Fuck you, old man! You don't touch me!" Michael threw a punch back growling, "You little shit!" He head butted him and then drove his knee into his abdomen. "Teach you some respect for your fucking elders!"

The guy grunted with pain as Michael's knee hit him in the gut but he swung back making a feeble attempt to punch him. He shoved him back and punched the older man in the chest. "I'm going to beat you till you get a coronary you fat fuck!"

He swung again and hit him in the side of the face. The kid followed up with another but Michael dodged it. He hit the kid in the left side of the face and then grabbed him by the collar and hit him again, causing the guy's lips to bleed. Trevor, meanwhile saw that an order had just been put to be given through the Drive Thru. He twisted the manager's arm hard and shoved him to the floor. "Don't move a muscle, not even your brown eye or you'll be sorry!"

He went to the window and saw a carload of teenagers driving a red Feltzer. He served them their food and said, "Congratulations, you're our 50th customer today! You win..." He looked and saw the manager's phone he had taken from him. "A free I Fruit phone! Enjoy!" The guy, a sandy haired kid, wearing a striped orange and white T shirt, blue jeans, and sunglasses took it and said, "Sweet! Thanks bro!"

Trevor said, "Don't mention it.," There was an Asian girl in the car who said, "Um...we also ordered four medium sprunks?" He got the cups and filled them up as quickly as he could. Michael meanwhile was still brawling with the worker. Every other worker was cowering in the back. Townley had to hand it to the little prick he was trying hard to fight but he wasn't that tough.

Michael sent him crashing into one of the tables. He downed the last of his E Cola and opened the lid saying, "You got a little boo boo on your face better put some ICE ON IT!" He dumped it all over the bruised and bloodied young man's face. Meanwhile, as Trevor served the kids their drinks and bid them farewell the manager got up, angry. He yelled at the workers in the back, "You cowards! You didn't even help me!" An Ethiopian American woman got her cell phone out and called the police.

With that, the manager charged Trevor. "You fuck! Come into this place and start fights, will ya?!" Trevor Kicked the man in the groin and followed up with a four punch combo to his face. He grabbed the man by the hair and said, "I warned you!" With that, he took him back to the fry maker and said, "Rusty, I want to play a game! Bobbing for fries!" With that, he shoved his head toward it.

The man struggled and cried for help but Trevor forced his face into the fry boiler. He screamed as the boiling hot water and oil sizzled his skin. He pulled his head up as if Trevor were attempting to drown him and not scald him but Trevor said, "Come on, princess I know you can do better than that!" The man howled in pain shrieking like a banshee and he let the man collapse at his feet writhing in agony.

A Chicana woman said, "Look just take all the money but don't hurt any more of us!" He approached her and she backed up in fear. "That's very generous of you to offer, darling. But I'm rich and your boss has chump change in the register. I would like the surveillance disc though. Can't have the Los Santos Police getting their hands on that."

He pulled his gun out due to her hesitation. She went to the back in a hurry and returned with it. She handed it over and he said, "There. Now was that so hard? Now give us a kiss!" Her brown eyes widened. He laughed and said, "Come on, Blanca," He said reading her name tag. "Relax! I'm shitting with you!"

With that, he jumped back over the counter, gun in hand and said, "That's all folks! You can all go back to your meals. Just a little misunderstanding between customers and vendors. Just a little kink in the chains of capitalism. We'll be on our way. Just pretend we were never here!"

As they left, an African American patron who like many other customers had gotten down when they saw the gun, stood up saying, "Wait a minute. Did he just say he's rich?!" He said in disbelief.

They got into Trevor's Bodhi and took off. Not long after, two L.S.P.D. cruisers were behind them, lights flashing, sirens began to head north toward Vinewood Hills. He would try and lose them up that way."You know, T, it didn't have to end up like that. You didn't have to assault the fucking guy! If you wanted to stop the cops from being called, you made the wrong choice!"

Trevor said, "I didn't see you holding back with that punk back there! You beat him senseless! Admit it, Mikey, this is a fun way to be! Besides, if a piece of shit smug bastard like that threatens to call the cops on me it's one thing but if you're stupid enough to call them on me in front of me, I reserve the right to beat the mortal shit out of you!"

Michael said, "That's not how the law works, Trev. You did what you had to I guess, but fuck, man! All this over a few cuss words and graphic conversation! No wonder this country is turning into a land of pussies! When I was growing up if I wanted to smoke in a restaurant I could do that! Then the 90's came and we had a smoking section and non smoking section which was fine with me! Now you can't smoke within twenty five feet of certain places. Now, this with profanity? Maybe if she paid attention to her kids and talked to them while eating and kept their attention on her, that bitch wouldn't have had a problem!"

As they headed for Vinewood Hills, Trevor put the radio station to Channel X and the song Estranged by Guns N Roses played. A cop car pulled up on Trevor's left as he took a sharp right down an intersection as they flew through Rockford Plaza. "Pull over now! You're in a lot of trouble!" Yelled the officer. Trevor shouted back, "Hey, that's a great idea! I think that's exactly what you should do!"

He rammed the officer and sent the cop car crashing into a shiny red Infernus in the opposite lane going the other way. "Pull that piece of shit over before we ram you off the road!" Screamed a red faced Caucasian cop with blonde hair so light it was almost white. He grinned and said, " Time for Uncle t to take this show off the road!"

With that he pulled the red Bodhi off road and headed up the steep grassy hill. They came up to the next near available road and he was up on higher ground. There were now three cars after them but one car rolled down the hill trying to get up as they'd taken the wrong speed up the steep hill.

One cop shouted to another car, "You guys go around and try to cut him off! I'm staying on him!" They pulled off to the nearest road just as Trevor had but they went from lower ground than he did. This vehicle was more equipped for off roading than theirs was.

As they followed him he went higher up the hills and he knew soon he would be near the Vinewood sign. It wasn't the same as it once had been though as they now had security guards and even a fence up there. Back in 92' you could go up near there like it was nothing. Trevor then pulled a sharp U turn and the cops started to get out of their car, guns drawn but he smashed on through. They did not run them over but they rammed the police cars and this hit them.

Two more cop cars came, sirens blaring after them and Trevor barreled through one car smashing their front in, turning the bumper into a junk heap. They sped up and he warned his friend, "Michael! Better hold on, buddy! It's going to be a bumpy ride!"

They pulled off tearing down the hill. Both the car they had not hit as well as the one they had hit followed him down hill. The one with the smashed front crashed into him from behind. Michael was startled and almost flew out of his seat and would have if not for the seat belt which he noticed Trevor was not wearing.

Trevor took a sharp turn going down an even steeper part of the grass and the already beat up cop car tried following but ended up crashing as they flipped the car rolling down the hill and the fiber glass was all over as the windshield cracked looking like a spider web and ten shattered and rained on the cops inside as well as the grassy hill side.

The other cop tried to follow but Trevor fired a round at the tire of the car on the left front side squeezing off rounds till he hit it. The cop car skidded and had to stop. "Suspect has opened fire on car repeat shots fired requesting back up at..."

Then they were out of earshot. They got to a good spot, heading down alleys just off Legion Square and decided to head south. "Let's hit the strip clubs, Michael! I know you don't have sex with them anymore so you say but you still drink don't you?"

_San Andreas Avenue_

The pigs had questioned them a lot more than they should have much to his discomfort. They had helped identify the body as well and had said they didn't know anything but that Simeon had called them and said he had been chased. They did not tell the cops that he had described them. They now drove back to Franklin's crib in Vinewood. "Man, after this I need a drink, my nigga. I can't believe they killed Simeon! I know how you feel about it but damn. I didn't want to see him get killed!"

Lamar said, "Yeah I know, F. I mean don't get me wrong I t least owed that Eurasian mofo a good beat down and a half but to see him get killed like that? Damn. Still, I aint gonna shed tears on it. You can go ahead if you wanna be crying like a little ole female I won't judge you but the homies may laugh you off the block for that shit."

Franklin had the radio on Radio Los Santos. The song I Rep That West by Ice Cube played. "Yeah, thanks homie. I never thought I'd say it but you're actually giving some validity to the shit my Auntie is saying with her feminist group. Actually I got nothing against women's rights at all I just think she can be overzealous about it."

Lamar scoffed at that. "Man, you might as well panties your damn self. It's a mans world!" Franklin said, "Yeah whatever fool you said yourself you wanted to pop him yourself and just move onto another motherfucker to work for and do the same thing. How can you even make new friends being that cold?"

Lamar said defensively, "Shit when you say it like that, you make me seem like an asshole! I aint saying I'm happy he's gone I mean if anybody should have gotten to cap him, it should have been me. You forget that Mr. Vinewood? When a nigga from the projects gets fired by his boss he wants to put some hot brass in his ass!"

Franklin snorted with contempt. "No not every nigga from the hood does that just like not everybody in our hood is even in a gang, motherfucker! You and me are actually rare cause most of the fools in Chamberlain Hills got honest jobs. Working as hard as Mexicans do. The legit ones I mean."

Lamar said, " Come to think of it, there was a Mexican guy I became friends with on Life Invader who I did turn on to Simeon back before he up and fired me. He doesn't talk much but he gets the job done. I doubt it was him cause I've been nothing but good to that dude and so has Simeon. Why aint five o hitting him up?"

Frank shrugged. "They probably have or want to but if he's smart he'll lay low. Whoever this mystery guy is."

Lamar added, "Speaking of them, the five o said that was who booked Simeon, homie. A couple of Ese's. I don't think my boy Colton did it he aint janky like that but you think it had anything to do with the Vagos and that shit we did? I mean that's the only peeps I can think of with any reason to hate on him,"

Franklin said, "Nah homie, he had other people driving out to take stuff back for him too. Then again as much people as he loaned credit to I guess you could say all demographics in this city have a reason to get their hate on with Simeon."

Lamar shook his head, "Nah I think I'm right on this one, dog. I mean he may have other people repossessing shit for him and all but I'm pretty sure we're the only motherfuckers that go around killing other motherfuckers to do what it do!"

Franklin chuckled at his friend, once again believing him to be the stupider of the two which most people tended to agree with. "How can you possibly know that, L? I don't think you're right on that. Matter of fact why don't you leave the big thinking to those of us with the big brains. Cause intellectually you're remedial, partna."

Lamar narrowed his eyes. "Come on with the big words Mr. Vinewood Oreo. What the fuck's that mean? Remedial? Sounds like a band or something," The shorter CGF gangster and bank robber shook his head in disbelief. "No, blood, it means you're retarded. I'm sorry cause you're my dog and everything but you are! That's why you need to be the brawns not the brains in any operation, even this lick we got coming up with that Mafia trial in Venturas."

The taller CGF gang member took offense. "Nigga, fuck you! I swear, man Vinewood got you thinking you're all that. Used to be you didn't need shit but your word and your balls. Now you think you all high and mighty talking down to everybody. Bitch ass nigga."

Franklin laughed at that. "So if I speak with grammar or even just learn words they didn't tell us about in our shitty public schools, I gotta be an Oreo for that? Maybe if you tried expanding your own horizons, you'd be able to make your own paper more and have it last. You're a lot like Trevor. I mean you may not eat people but you're both irrational speed freaks who don't give any thought for tomorrow."

Lamar was annoyed. "You know what, man I hung out with that dude and he said me and him were more alike while you and Michael were more like each other. Guess you're learning how to be a scandalous ass snake like he's meant to be based on what Trevor told me."

Just then Lamar's cell phone rang. "Gerald, what's popping, nigga? What's good in the hood, homebolio?" Gerald, was one of the OG's of Chamberlain Gangster Families. He was one of those dudes who was shady as fuck and didn't talk much. Especially Lamar. He disliked him and he never said much to Franklin back in the day.

"What? Slow down, G and run that by me again, man!" Franklin heard Gerald yell into the phone, _"Nigga if you don't pass this motherfucking phone over to Franklin, I'm gonna put your dumb ass in the ground myself you loud mouthed bitch!Even hood rats talk less than you do, Lanky Dumbass! This is an emergency, fool! Put Frank on!"_

Lamar angrily told the OG, "Nigga gimme one reason why I shouldn't hang up on your hostile black ass right now! You never show me or FC no love and we getting on soon to where we can be OG's too same as you and we don't gotta take shit from you or nobody on the set. Real talk! That's why we started Forum Gangsters cause you be acting like a little bitch!"

Gerald once again screamed, "_NIGGA I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT YOU OR YOUR PUSSY ASS DICK RIDING SUB SET! YOU'RE STILL A CHAMBERLAIN HILLS SOLDIER THOUGH SOMETIMES I WONDER WHY I DON'T JUST BAN YOUR STUPID ASS FROM THE HOOD. STILL, THIS IS A CHAIN OF COMMAND AND RIGHT NOW YOUR COMMANDER IS TELLING YOU TO PASS OVER THE PHONE RIGHT NOW!"_

Lamar only halfway obeyed his command. "Homie, fuck you anything you need to say to my boy Frank you can say in front of me too. I'm putting your trifling ass on speaker phone. So speak. Don't yell."

Franklin said, "What up, Fam? What you want?" Gerald said, "_Hey listen up, I got some bad news, dog. I know you and me we aint exactly close homies I mean I didn't even have your number but I thought you should hear from me. The Ball Sacks hit the hood spraying. The did a drive-by on your Auntie's house on Forum, man. Some of the homies came out bucking at them fools but they got away. Your Auntie's in the hospital in critical condition, man. Los Santos Central. She took a few rounds I aint sure how bad other than critical they didn't say if she'd make it or nothing so you should get over there and see her. The Lobsters also hit some of those rug munchers she hang out with too and even killed a couple of them."_

Franklin hung up his heart racing. He beat the steering wheel with his fist. "Goddamn it!" He put his arms folded against it and buried his face in them.

Lamar put a hand on his friends shoulder. "Hey homie, your Auntie needs you, man. You gotta be strong for her. Let's get on over there. I'm with you to the end, bro. CGF for life. Even if the OG's is scandalous bitches, you and me are road dogs to the end, right?"

_East Los Santos _

_12:45 PM. _

Joaquin walked into Lefty's canton. Though she had moved to El Burro Heights, his sister was still there all the time. Lefty's woman, Juanita Gutierrez or at least that was her maiden name, and their three kids were as well.

She was a pretty El Salvadoran woman with brown hair, deep coconut shaped brown eyes, the stereotypical Native American high cheek bones that were so high, she could accidentally hang up on you if on the phone if she made a wrong move, and a normally killer body. She was pregnant with their fourth kid on the way. She had been a Mara Bunta member too before Joaquin had left for the military even with one kid at the time but in the last few years, they'd had a daughter on top of that and twin boys.

She was a chola and was considered to be as much of an OG as Lefty was among cholas for how she had gotten down in the 90's and a lot of the new millennium but due to being a mother to more than one kid she knew she would have to tone it down and stop banging. It was the Get Out Of Jail free card that cholas often get and in most gangs that had female members got that their male counterparts often did not. Being a mother was no easy thing and the veteranos and Shot Callers acknowledged and respected this and even a father still in the life was expected to take it every bit as seriously as the mothers were.

While most cholos either ended up in jail, dead or the hospital and in many cases all through, hence the three dotted tattoo that Chicano gangs had used first but many black gang members copied and even Ice Cube had on his face represented the Tres Puntos or three points of La Vida Loca. Jail, hospital and the graveyard. However female gang members, especially cholas, usually, if they were not killed in gang warfare, ended up becoming mothers and growing out of it.

Joaquin figured it was also part of the age old wisdom that girls were more mature than boys. Some hynas were down for life though and those that were often met the same fate as male members and even if jail, the hospital or prison had not gotten you yet, once you were in, you were in for life.

Many Vago sets did allow men to tun their lives around if they were serious about it and they had to be jumped out usually but not all did. It varied and all though Mara Bunta Grande was technically a South Side Vago cliqua, even if they were a sub set and almost pretty much a sub gang with a structure and mind of their own, M.B.G was not one of the cliquas that allowed you to quit. Mara Bunta, much like the Mexican Mafia prison gang La Onda, was por vida.

Hasta La Muerte.

Her stomach looked better than most pregnant women did at six months pregnant. "Como estas, Juanita? You're glowing."

She kissed him on the cheek and he hugged her and said, "Stop, you're just saying that to be polite. I know I'm a cow."

He denied it. "Chale, mija. I've seen pregnant jefas out in Vespucci Beach in bikinis and I would tell them if it was unsightly but you have good genes obviously. Your belly button aint even sticking out like most pregnant mamas do you still got an innie."

She chuckled. "Si. It's just stretched out on this ever expanding globe. Anyway, Jose is in the kitchen,"

Culebra nodded. "Orale, mija. And you better have given up smoking too! Bad for the babies!" She nodded. "I was on the patch for two years after I had Antonio," She said rubbing the black wavy hair of her first son who was eight years old and wide eyed. "Now I get sick just being around other smokers so don't worry about that."

Lefty was in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee. "What's going on, big man?" Joaquin slapped hands with him. "Not much, ese. Just said hi to Juanita. Anyway, so you said you had some business?" The older cholo nodded. "That's right, hombre. You want to take a ride out to Sandy Shores with me and Rosita? We'll scoop up one of the other homies out there just hanging too they don't got anything else going on."

Lefty's daughter, Emilia, came in and hugged Culebra. "Tio Joaquin!" She hugged him and he picked her up. "Hola, sweetheart how are you doing, baby girl? You still doing good in school?" She blinked her big brown eyes. "Yes."

Lefty took her from him. "Mira, go finish up on your homework, mija. Your teacher wanted you to pick out a book to read fr the class, right? You should pick out one you want you have plenty to choose from. I'll be in later to help you if you want but for now daddy's got some business to attend top. I'll be back later ok?"

She nodded. "Si papa. Just don't be too long!"

She ran out of the room noisily in the non graceful way kids often did. Joaquin asked, "So what's going on in Sandy Shores?" Lefty set the coffee cup down. "We need to commandeer an ambulance from the Sandy Shores Medical Center. Let's just say we need to go on a little rescue mission. We don't normally get along with him and his crew but he got caught with his pants down by a mutual enemy and he barely survived. You know how they say the enemy of an enemy is your friend? This vato is looking at multiple murder charges, I think maybe under RICO even though he just barely survived. So if we spring him from custody he'll owe us big time."

Joaquin was skeptical but said, "Really? Tell me more."

Lefty said, "They transferred him to Mount Zonah because they thought Sandy Shores wasn't safe for him anymore on account of who put him there in the first place."

_Mount Zonah _

_12:56: PM. _

A Caucasian member of the Los Santos Police Department walked forth to relieve the guarding officer of his shift as the shift was now changing. "Quitting time. So you mind telling me who this prick is we're baby sitting? Captain didn't exactly give me details. Just said high profile case that has the FIB salivating."

The other officer, a middle aged African American officer with a mustache and receding hairline answered, "They're coming by to take over his custody but until they do we have to watch him. His name is Johnny Kleibitz. Former president of the Lost MC out of Alderney. They expanded out here and started their own chapter out in the desert but the funny thing is there was already other chapters all over the state but Johnny still has a lot of respect."

The cop said, "oh yeah? Didn'tyt they find that guy dead?" The second officer shook his head. "Near death and out cold but not dead. His junkie girlfriend got EMT's there and were just barely able to get a pulse. They had to operate on him cause he had blunt force trauma to the head and took some hard stomps. They had to install a metal plate in his head just to save him there was so much damage. They're lucky they were able to stop the bleeding too. He was clinically dead for two minutes."

The first cop said, "Well then why the hell was he reported as dead in the news?" The older cop explained, "That's what the media was told but we cooperated with the Sandy Shores Sheriff. The FIB phoned them from Liberty City saying they wanted to charge him with federal charges like inciting a prison riot, breaking into the Alderney State Correctional Facility, the first degree murder of the club's old president, the murder of FIB agents in Alderney, this guy is in a world of hurt. Gunning down a federal agent is a capital offense. He's going to get the needle. We just want everybody thinking he's dead including any rival gangs just until we get him fully in custody and on trial."

The younger cop didn't understand. "So if the FIB in Alderney wants him then what is the Los Santos FIB doing meddling in it?" The older one said, "It's bureaucratic bullshit. Sandy Shores Sheriff's department turns him to the L.S.P.D. we turn custody over to the FIB later today and then they will deliver him to representatives from the Bureau back east. The point is though he's a cop killer and we got him. Grade A scum bag. That bastard has killed a lot of people."

The younger man shook his head in disbelief. "So were saving his ass just to kill him, huh? He must be a real shit head to want to do that," The older one said, "Oh he's going to die all right. There's no issue with that. It's just the state has to be the one to execute him. God forbid a meth head beam this asshole to death and he becomes some sort of would be martyr!"

The younger rookie agreed. "Heaven forbid. Shall we go say hi to Mr. Famous? I read about him on Weazel."

The older cop shrugged. "I don't see why not. I got something I need to tell him anyway."

They walked in and the nurse said, "We're just changing his bandages. Don't mind us we'll only be a few more seconds," The older black cop told him, "If you got anything to say, you'd better say it to the judge!"

Johnny K looked at him and said, "Even if it's that I don't see the crime in gunning down some fat doughnut munching barrel assed friends of yours in my hometown?" He was cuffed to the bed. The older cop smirked at Johnny like he was food and he himself was a lion.

"This is Officer Gates. He'll be your new babysitter. So joke all you want, man. I don't know how long they'll keep you alive on death row but I'm pretty sure you're still going to have the same year on your date of death when they put a tomb stone over your body. All though nobody will mourn you since the Lost MC has a new president and your butt buddies Terry and Clay were found dead."

Johnny demanded, "What are you talking about? God, my head is still killing me. Hey, you, green thumb. Can you have one of those nurses get me a sponge bath and a painkiller?" The younger cop chuckled at him. "That's real cute, John. You don't remember your friends getting killed? You probably got them killed. You telling me you don't remember Sandy Shores? You don't remember a bottle to the head?"

Johnny shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about. We all just got set up here not too long ago. I don't even know what you're thinking I did. Me and my boys haven't been here more than six months! Whee's my girl, Ashley? You dick heads better be letting her in to see me!"

The black guy chucked and said, "You want to tell him or should I?"

The rookie cackled, "With pleasure. Also, the judge aint gonna buy any of this innocence shit yo're pulling. You cheated death once but you won't be doing that again. Your junkie bitch of a girlfriend won't be there to get you out of this one."

Johnny demanded, "What are you talking about? Where's Ashley?!"

* * *

_That's it for chapter three people I hope you enjoyed the ride. This is a long authors not but it was a bit of a long chapter so please read and bear with me you might learn something!_

_So let's get down to the parodies.A chicken cluck is a spoof of the Chicken selects at Burger King carried over from my other stories. The Urban Dictionary definition is you lube someone up, every crevice in their body. Afterwards you proceed to grab a deceased chicken and slap them repeatedly until climax is reached._

_Also Cowgirl Cheeseburger is a reference and spoof to the Rodeo Cheeseburger with the onion rings and a reference to the sexual position. Also, down to the scene between Mara Bunta and the Families that strongly embodied the real life racial tensions between black and brown people in L.A._

_The term chanate and mayate are insults by African Americans from Chicanos but also if a person is brown and acts black they'd be called a mayatero, chanatero or a llantero (Llantero being for llanta which translates to tire in English another insult) _

_The obscenities exchanged is some of them, exact words that blacks, both gang affiliated and non gang affiliated have said to us and we've said back in the heat of conflicts both verbal, physical and further beyond that but I'm not going into details. I know the law. No statute of limitations and all that loophole BS. _

_Also, the notion that we are all descended from Africans the thing they argued about,, may be proven wrong after all. For one, it's true, the first man would have to be omni racial and there are no blacks that look like me unless they're mixed with native that is._

_Also a new discovery found that we've been in North America for 50,000 years. Many say well homo sapiens go back 200,00 years but then it's like that's a discovery of science and most black folks are either Christian or Muslim so why do you believe in science anyway? Don't you consider that "Satanic"?_

_Also proving there was human life there or even that it was the earliest Fund remains keyword found does not mean we came from Africa or Asia either. Whites try to say that we are from Asia to portray us as Asian immigrants so that they can justify their own immigration and genocide. Also, Afro centrists who believe they made us (Which they always say in a condescending manner used to imply they are somehow better than us hence, the response about bet versions from Sniper and rough drafts seemed appropriate also something our homies have said in actual squabs.) and so therefore they are somehow indigenous to this earth and that therefore it's theirs and we can't even claim this as our land._

_But in that new discovery it was said, "The dawn of modern homo sapiens occurred in Africa between 60,000 and 80,000 years ago. Evidence of modern man's migration out of the African continent has been documented in Australia and Central Asia at 50,000 years and in Europe at 40,000 years. The fact that humans could have been in North America at or near the same time is expected to spark debate among archaeologists worldwide, raising new questions on the origin and migration of the human species."_

_So that's Afro centrism debunked right there. We were always here. I'm sure they'll find more remains here that date even further back. My personal belief is all races were around at the same time. And though I don't believe in the bible at all, Lefty did make a valid point too for anybody who believes in the bible and such Noah would have had to be omni racial that is of many races to have made three different children who were supposed to be the father of Africa, Asia and Europe. Not saying I believe the bible is true but if it is, since we look nothing like either of the tree who knows maybe we have some distant relation to middle eastern people Gene Simmons does look a lot likke us but I doubt it to me the bible is a fairy tale for adults._

_At least with my peoples creation stories, the religion itself was also hand in hand with science and did not reject science or say the world was only 6,000 years old and that humans lived among dinosaurs. Illogical shit like that. And it's not just us pre bibler pagans all over the world observe both science and God in nature and see them as one._

_Anyway, that rant aside let's get to the other stuff. Flauson ave is based on Slauson avenue and is a word play on Flossing, as in balling and the street name. As for Johnny K, he has a bit of short term memory loss as a result of the bottle to the head. I'm not saying a head injury like that couldn't kill you. I know it can and so would being stomped like that but is it a sure thing? No. Not if being shot in the head isn't._

_Which Johnny has been shot many times in the events of TLAD and he still survived even the shootout at the prison. Have I aroused your curiosity as to who the new club prez is? I had a great idea for it too. Also how do you think it will play out with Joaquin and the other Mara Bunta members busting him out?_

_Oh and now Frank knows about his Aunt getting shot she was wounded not killed but I aint saying what's going to happen. Also in terms of retaliation for the shooting of Stretch the Ballas will have something planned for Michael as well._

_Oh and the mention of the guy named Colton is Colton Salinas. He was the Mexican dude i was friends with before but he's what we cal around the hood, as a chanatero or mayatero. A brown person who thinks he's black. Seriously he listens to more black rap than artists by his own and whenever there's racial conflict between black and brown, hhe always takes up for blacks over his own which is a dumb move._

_I saw what his GTA V online character looks like though and it looked like my only with facial hair hahaha but same clothes with shorter hair. In any case, the kind of person this guy Colton is, a self hating wannabe, fits in with the beginning of the story line of it because if you customized your character to look like a cholo as I did, he still has to work for Lamar and CGF at the start and I was told you get o choose your own story line but i think that's more if you have online friends and join one of the other gangs in Rockstar Social Club._

_Seriously this guy is a douche bag. If brown people call blacks names, he'll say we're falling into the white man's plan but he's a hypocrite because when blacks say racial shit to us, he doesn't say anything to check them on it. That's cowardice. IDK if he's afraid to get beat up or what. I'm not afraid of retaliation for the things i say or do but then i realize even if he's kissing their ass they could just as easily beat him up so wtf? He's of Mexican and Apache descent and yet he dishonors his ancestors who fought both white and black racists in the battle field (The cavalries and their buffalo solders who tried to wipe out or at least displace natives from our land) I'm just saying a true warrior doesn't kiss ass. _

_Be they Apache or Mexican (Mesheeka) _

_I didn't want to be with CGF in the online game but since i found out i can do that i may join Mara Bubta, the Vagos or the Aztecas. (By the way i have xbox live but I need to get a ps3 as Psn is free fuck this highway robbery shit) but in any case seeing as Colton is a total sellout, to do missions for a gang like CGF and have to kill numerous Vagos IE, his own people snce they're a Chicano gang, fits right in with who he is. Joaquin is sort of more like my character if i had a say more in what would happen in the story line. Since characters kill each other online all the time even though for the main online story we have the same story line, I'm going to have him kill Colton later._

_I also need to find out what the deal is with Rockstar Social Club. Both on my 360 and when i get a PS3. Cause if i have the option of working with other gangs, I want to. It's a rip off to have us work for Families two GTA games in a row. Really three if you consider V and Online different from each other. _

_By the way since Big Zane, author of The Troubleshooter (I may have got the title wrong i apologize if i did) decided to make the change to his story more suited to his character and have Troy Martinez be a black man from Belize but who is in an AA gang, i should do the same with Joaquin and make him Nahuatl and Mohawk, my tribe, instead of Nahuatl and Mojave a tribe indigenous to L.A. but I will probably have another character who is Mojave._

_I guess since American Indians often join Chicano gangs as do El Salvadorans and all, it should be no surprise that East Africans or a black man from Belize could be a crip or blood. Behind the walls race matters more than individual nationality. Anyway, i though i reject the term Hispanic or Latino for people of Mexican, Central American, Caribbean or South American nationality as its just a language and that makes no sense as most are brown indigenous, still, non brown people and especially cops are not going to differentiate so the APB's come out the same describing them with socially inaccurate terms._

_Anyway, as far as Rosita do you see some chemistry between her and Joaquin or no? Also, is there any oc's you like? Joker doing what he did to that apartment is a bit of a reference to the mission in GTA SA Burning Desire in which CJ kills Vagos and then sets the place on fire but then rescues Denise._

_Well in this instance it's the other way around all though Joker may have gone a bit too far (Then again he did grow up in guerrilla warfare) it is an uncanny reference only this is like what happens where if there is somebody in there, if nobody comes and rescues them like CJ did for Denise._

_Also, Brian "Breezy" (Last name to be revealed in Weazel news bulletin) he is another person based off encounters i had. He's a Blood from Atlanta who talked shit about my race because he supported Trayvon Martin and I supported Zimmerman and he referred to me as a "Sureno crab" even though Surenos and crips are not the same thing and we existed first i guess anti lue hatred? But i called him a slob anyway he was saying that even if we outnumber them on the west coast they outnumber us down south._

_Even if that is true, Atlanta Bloods are not connected to L.A. Bloods in fact both Bloods and Crips in L.A. would call anybody outside L.A. a dick rider and not accept them. In Atlanta the Surenos out there are connected to California's Mexican Mafia. See even though the Aryan Brotherhood (Who the Aryan Vanguard is based off of) is in every major prison, La Eme is only in prisons in twelve states. The reason for that being they have more heat on them than the Neo Nazis do so if a bunch of Sureno foot soldiers don't have a La Eme faction in their state wherever it may be, then they would answer to the home base. Emeros in California's penal system._

_So even if blacks outnumber us down there now it won't be for long. I just never understood how a national gang can call outsiders fakes. I understand if they don't adhere to the rituals and rules of the original gang like the NY Bloods don't but simply being from another state? How can you ever branch out and take over?_

_In a sense i actually feel bad for them on that. Anyway, so let me know what you think I apologize ahead of time for any typos i tried to fix it up as much as I can, I tried to take Sir Jason's advice and describe the mood of when a character says something but I'm sure I still fell short on your standards. I'm sorry my schedule is swamped with Winter quarter starting so I'm in a rush here it's actually past Two AM right now but I wanted to finish this today so I can hopefully get reviews tomorrow._

_And try not to mind the tensions. Zane is representing the black side of the racial pedo (Or as he would say, beef) I am representing the brown side. hehe Which is the name of a Chicano rap group discovered by Eazy E. Check them out that was their song being played. As far as the other songs mentioned if you haven't heard them check them ouut._

_Also, Oso is based on Chino Grande visually and also the reason for him making that song to disrespect Snoop was he felt disrespected because in the song Vato by Snoop Dogg and B Real, he said vatos were his enemy even though he had B Real in it, since B Real is by definition a mayatero, even though he's Mexican and Cuban, he is no more of a vato than Snoop is. So by saying vatos were his enemy in that song on the Blue Carpet Treatment he was saying we are._

_Snoop can say it wasn't intended to be racist but come on man, when that song was first released in the first version it was featuring Pharell not B Real if that wasn't a Get-A-Token-Mexican move I don't know what is. He just did that so people would think he was being culturally sensitive but really B Real was not part of the lyricism he was just the hook._

_I recommend checking Snoops version of Vato first to see why and then you'll understand especially when he says "You'll hear my enemies go vato you won't believe what I saw"_

_and then Chino Grande's version of said song.. And while you're at it check out Chino Grande's interview on Vato of the same name where he explains why he was beefing._

_Oh and also Sniper by the way is visually inspired by Raymond Cruz who was in Blood In Blood Out as the Vato Loco gang member named Chuey he was also Sniper in Training Day, same name and if you look at the avatar of this story he is the guy on the left and Joaquin is visually inspired by the guy on the right and based on Paco from BIBO except if Paco was a Marine like in the movie but did not become a cop._

_This is important too. Those of you who have read this so far and will read this now, please vote on what you think should b the approach for their heist. Subtle or Obvious I know Zane voted for loud but I need more votes. Majority rules and that's how I will make the choice so it seems like it channels the feeling of choosing it when playing the game between two choices._

_I had Frank and Lamar boosting vehicles and did not reveal which they picked because in either case they will need them but before i get to working on heist details, please every one of you who has read and reviewed please say what approach you vote for._

_As for the typos I apologize to Sir Jason and any others but I simply don't have time right now I have somewhere to be and need to get this over with. Next time I will go over it finely and edit any and all mistakes once i get settled in with school. If there's any typos that don't make sense if a letter is missing or something just try to assume the context. I promise to take care of it next chapter._

_For now, I hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading please leave a long and detailed review you can call it payback for you reading this long A/N. Make me read a long thing hahah._

_Anyway that's all for now._

_N.G.13_


End file.
